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THE 


PRINCIPLES  OF  RHETORIC 


AND  THEIR  APPLICATION 


By  ADAMS  SHERMAN  HILL 

BOl’LSTON  PROFKSSOK  OF  lillETOIilC  AND  OKATOUY 
IN  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


AVITII  AN  APPENDIX 

OO-MPEISIXG  GENERAL  RULES  FOR  PUNCTUATION 


NEW  YORK 

HARPER  AND  BROTHERS 

1887 


Copyright, 

By  Adams  S.  Hill, 

1878. 


INTRODUCTION. 


For  the  purposes  of  this  treatise,  Rhetoric  may  be 
defined  as  tiie  art  of  efficient  communication  by  lan- 
guage. It  is  not  one  of  several  arts  out  of  which  a 
choice  may  be  made  ; it  is  the  art  to  the  principles  of 
which,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  a good  Avriter  or 
speaker  must  conform. 

It  is  an  art,  not  a science  : for  it  neither  observes, 
nor  discovers,  nor  classifies ; but  it  shows  how  to  con- 
vey from  one  mind  to  another  the  results  of  observation, 
discovery,  or  classification ; it  uses  knowledge,  not  as 
knowledge,  but  as  power. 

Logic  simply  teaches  the  right  use  of  reason,  and 
may  be  practised  by  the  solitary  inhabitant  of  a desert 
island  ; but  Rhetoric,  being  the  art  of  communication  by 
language,  implies  the  presence,  in  fact  or  in  imagination, 
of  at  least  two  persons,  — the  speaker  or  the  writer, 
and  the  person  spoken  to  or  written  to.  Aristotle  makes 
the  very  essence  of  Rhetoric  to  lie  in  the  distinct  recog- 
nition of  a hearer.  Hence,  its  rules  are  not  absolute, 
like  those  of  logic,  but  relative  to  the  character  and 


IV 


INTRODUCTION. 


circumstances  of  those  addressed ; for  though  truth  is 
one,  and  correct  reasoning  must  always  he  correct,  the 
ways  of  communicating  truth  are  many. 

Being  the  art  of  communication  hy  language^  Rhetoric 
applies  to  any  subject-matter  that  can  be  treated  in 
words,  but  has  no  subject-matter  peculiar  to  itself.  It 
does  not  undertake  to  furnish  a person  with  something 
to  say ; but  it  does  undertake  to  tell  him  how  best  to 
say  that  with  which  he  has  provided  himself.  “ Style,” 
says  Coleridge,  “is  the  art  of  conveying  the  meaning 
appropriately  and  with  perspicuity,  whatever  that 
meaning  may  be  ; ” but  some  meaning  there  must  be : 
for,  “ in  order  to  form  a good  style,  the  primary  rule 
and  condition  is,  not  to  attempt  to  express  ourselves 
in  language  before  we  thoroughly  know  our  own 
meaning.” 

Part  I.  of  this  treatise  discusses  and  illustrates  the 
general  principles  which  apply  to  written  or  spoken 
discourse  of  every  kind.  Part  II.  deals  with  those 
principles  which  apply,  exclusively  or  especially,  to 
Narrative  or  to  Argumentative  Composition, — the 
two  kinds  of  prose  writing  which  seem  to  require 
separate  treatment. 


CONTENTS, 


PART  I. 

COMPOSITION  IN  GENERAL. 

BOOK  1. 

GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

CHAP.  PAGB 

I.  Good  Use 1 

11.  Rules  in  Cases  of  Divided  Usage 12 

III.  Barbarisms 19 

Section  I.  Obsolete  Words 19 

,,  II.  New  Words 21 

,,  III.  New  Formations 24 

IV.  Solecisms 31 

V.  Improprieties 50 

BOOK  II. 

CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 

I.  Principles  of  Choice 63 

Section  I.  Clearness 65 

,,  II.  Force 84 

,,  III.  Elegance 100 

II.  Number  of  Words 104 

in.  Arrangement  of  Words 129 

IV.  Fundamental  Principles 162 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


PART  II. 

KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

BOOK  I. 

NARRATION  AND  DESCRIPTION. 

CHAP.  PAQB 

I.  Movement 167 

II.  Method 181 

BOOK  II. 

ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION. 

I.  Proposition  and  Proof 184 

II.  Three  Classes  of  Arguments 189 

Section  I.  Principles  of  Classification  . . . . 189 

,,  II.  Arguments  from  Antecedent  Proba- 
bility   193 

,,  III.  Arguments  from  Sign 197 

,,  IV.  Arguments  from  Example  ....  209 

III.  Burden  of  Proof  and  Presumption 219 

IV.  Order  of  Proposition  and  Proof 226 

V.  Persuasion 237 

VI.  Introductions  and  Conclusions 245 


APPENDIX. 

I.  General  Kules  for  Punctuation 249 

n.  Capital  Letters 279 


Index 289 

Index  to  Appendix 295 

Index  of  Words  and  Phrases 297 

Index  op  Authors 305 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  RHETORIC. 


PART  I. 

COMPOSITION  IN  GENERAL. 


BOOK  1. 

GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

GOOD  USE. 

Grammar,  in  the  widest  sense  of  the  word,  though 
readily  distinguishable  from  Rhetoric,  is  its  basis.  He 
who  has  mastered  the  meclianics  of  language  has  a gi-eat 
advantage  over  one  who  cannot  express  him- 

,,  • / 1 -1  1 Importance 

sell  correctly,  as  a painter  whose  pencil  rarely  of  correct 

, , 1 i 1 expression. 

errs  has  a great  advantage  over  one  who  can- 
not draw  correctly.  To  know  the  proper  use  of  one's 
native  tongue  is  no  merit ; not  to  know  it  is  a positive 
demerit,  — a demerit  the  greater  in  the  case  of  one  who 
has  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  education.  Yet,  not  even 
eminent  speakers  or  writers,  not  even  those  Avho  readily 
detect  similar  faults  in  others,  are  themselves  free  from 
errors  in  grammar, — ^uch,  at  least,  as  may  be  commit- 
ted, through  inadvertence,  in  the  hurry  of  speech  or  of 
composition.  “ A distinguished  British  scholar  of  the 
last  century  said  he  had  known  but  three  of  his  coun- 
trymen who  spoke  their  native  language  with  uniform 


2 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  L 


grammatical  accuracy ; and  the  observation  of  most 
persons  widely  acquainted  with  English  and  American 
society  confirms  the  general  truth  implied  in  this  dec- 
laration.” ^ “ It  makes  us  blush  to  add,”  says  De 

Quincey,^  “ that  even  grammar  is  so  little  of  a perfect 
attainment  amongst  us,  that,  with  two  or  three  exce[)- 
tions  (one  being  Shakspere,  whom  some  affect  to  con- 
sider as  belonging  to  a semi-barbarous  age),  we  have 
never  seen  the  writer,  through  a circuit  of  prodigious 
reading,^  who  has  not  sometimes  violated  the  accidence 
or  the  syntax^  of  English  grammar.” 

Correctness  (or  Purity)  is,  then,  the  first  requisite  of 
discourse,  whether  spoken  or  written.  Whatever  is  ad- 
dressed to  English-speaking  people  should  be  in  the 
English  tongue.  With  a few  exceptions,  to  be  here- 
Graramaticai  Boted,®  it  should  (1)  Contain  none  but 

purity  defined.  Eiig[[sP  words,  plii'ases,  and  idioms ; (2)  these 
words,  phrases,  and  idioms  should  be  combined  accord- 
ing to  the  English  fashion  ; and  (3)  they  should  be  used 
in  the  English  meaning. 

What,  now,  determines  whether  a given  expression  is 
English  ? 

Evidently,  the  answer  to  this  question  is  not  to  be 
False  tests  of  sotight  ill  inquiries  concerning  the  origin,  the 
good  English,  history,  or  the  fundamental  characteristics 
of  the  language.  However  interesting  in  themselves, 
however  successfully  prosecuted,  such  investigations 
are  foreign  to  a study  which  has  to  do,  not  with  words 
as  they  have  been,  or  might  have  been,  or  may  be,  but 
with  words  as  they  are  ; not  wiUli  the  English  of  yes- 


1 George  P.  Marsh : Lectures  on  the  English  Language,  lect.  v. 

2 Essaj'  on  Style. 

>1  Query  as  to  the  position  of  this  clause;  see  p.  140. 

4 See  p.  34  for  an  example  taken  from  this  ver^'  essay.  6 See  pp.  10,  61. 


€hap.  I.] 


GOOD  USE. 


3 


terday  or  to-morrow,  still  less  with  a theorist’s  ideal 
English,  but  with  the  English  of  to-day. 

In  the  English  of  to-day,  one  word  is  not  preferred 
to  another  because  it  is  derived  from  this  or  from  that 
source  ; the  present  meaning  of  a word  is  not  fixed  by 
its  etymology,  nor  its  inflection  by  the  inflection  of 
other  words  with  which  it  is  commonly  classed,  nor 
its  siDelling  by  what  some  writers  are  pleased  to  call 
“ reason.” 

Arithmetic  ilrom  the  Greek),  y?o«r  (from  the  Latin),  mutton  (from 
the  French) , gas  (a  term  invented  by  a chemist  ^),  are  as  good  words 
as  sheep,  meal,  or  Jire.  In  its  jtroper  place,  manufacture  is  as  good 
as  handiwork,  purple  as  red,  prairie  as  meadoio,  magnificent  as  great, 
murmur  as  buzz,  have  as  be,  oval  as  egg,  convention  as  meeting. 

Though  a vast  majority  of  nouns  form  the  plural  in  s,  the  plural 
of  ox  is  still  oxen,  and  that  of  mouse  is  still  tnice ; though  we  may 
no  longer  say  that  “ a bee  .stang  John,”  we  may  say  that  “ the  bells 
rang;  ” though  its  has  been  used  only  three  centuries,  it  is  as  much 
a part  of  the  language  as  his  and  her,  and  one  can  only  smile  at  a 
recent  writer’s  hostility  to  this  ‘ ‘ unlucky,  new-fangled  word.  ’ ’ ^ 

“ There  is,”  says  Landor,  “ a fastidiousness  in  the 
use  of  language  that  indicates  an  atrophy  of  mind. 
We  must  take  words  as  the  world  presents  them  to  us, 
without  looking  at  the  root.  If  we  grubbed  under  this 
and  laid  it  bare,  we  should  leave  no  room  for  our 
thoughts  to  lie  evenly,  and  every  expression  would 
be  constrained  and  crampt.’  We  should  scarcely  find 
a metaphor  in  the  purest  author  that  is  not  false  or 
imperfect,  nor  could  we  imagine  one  ourselves  that 
would  not  be  stiff  and  frigid.  Take  now,  for  instance, 
a phrase  in  common  use.  You  are  rather  late.  Can  any 
thing  seem  plainer  ? Yet  rather,  as  yoii  know,  meant 

* Van  Helmont,  a Fleming  (born  in  1577). 

“ T.L.  Kington  Olipliant:  The  Sources  of  Standard  English,  p.  309.  (1873.) 

’ A spelling  peculiar  to  Landor  among  modern  prose  writers.  Cramped 
•s  the  proper  frvnn. 


4 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  L 


originally  earlier,  being  the  comparative  of  rathe : the 
‘rathe  primrose  ’ of  the  poet  recalls  it.  We  cannot  say, 
You  are  sooner  late;  but  who  is  so  troublesome  and  silly 
as  to  question  the  propriety  of  saying,  You  are  rather 
late?  We  likewise  say,  bad  orthography  and  false 
orthography : how  can  there  be  false  or  bad  right- 
spelling ? ” ^ 

The  fastidiousness  that  objects  to  well-established 
words  because  their  appearance  “ proclaims  their  vile 
and  despicable  origin ; ” ^ or  to  well-understood  phrases, 
because  they  “ contain  some  word  that  is  never  used 
except  as  a part  of  the  phrase  or  to  idiomatic  ex- 
pressions, because,  “ when  analyzed  grammatically,  they 
include  a solecism,”  ^ or  because  they  were  “ originally 
the  spawn,  partly  of  ignorance,  and  partly  of  affecta- 
tion,” the  fastidiousness,  in  short,  that  would  sacri- 
fice to  the  proprieties  of  language  the  very  expressions 
that  give  life  to  our  daily  speech  and  vigor  to  the  best 
Avriting,  deserves  no  gentler  treatment  than  Landor 
gives  the  etymologists. 

Pell-mell,  topsy-turvy,  helter-skelter,  hurly-burly , hocus-pocus,  hodge- 
podge, harum-scarum,  namby-pamby,  loilly-nilly , shilly-shally,  higgledy- 
piggledy,  dilly-dally,  hurry-scurry,  carry  their  meaning  instantane- 
ously to  every  mind.® 

Though  the  italicized  words  in  “ by  dint  of,”  “ as  lief,”  “ to  and 
fro,”  “ not  a whit,”  “ kith  and  kin,”  “ might  and  main,”  '■‘hue  and 
cry,”  “pro  and  con,”  “spick  and  span  new,”  are  unused  except  in 
the  phrases  quoted,  the  phrases  are  universally  understood,  and 
there  is  no  more  reason  for  challenging  the  words  composing  them 
,than  there  is  for  challenging  a syllable  in  a word. 

A AValter  Savage  Landor:  Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  1G5. 

® George  Campbell:  Tlie  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  book  ii.  chap.  ii.  (1750.) 

® See  Ir\-ing’s  “ Legend  of  .Slcepj'  Hollow,”  Browning’s  “ Herv^  Riel,”  and 
various  passages  in  Burke. 


CUAP.  1] 


GOOD  USE. 


5 


Would  God,  tchellier  or  no,  never  so  good,  xchereahouls,  many  a, 
to  dance  attendance,  to  scrape  acquaintance,  whether  easy  to  parse 
or  not,  are  easy  to  understand,  are  facts  in  language.  Currying 
favor  may  at  once  defy  grammatical  analysis  and  smell  of  the 
stable;  but  what  other  expression  sums  up  the  low  arte  by  which 
a toady  seeks  to  ingratiate  himself  ? 

Ill  the  use  of  language,  there  i.s  only  one  sound  prin- 
ciple of  judgment.  If  to  be  understood  is,  The  only  sound 
as  it  should  be,  a writer’s  first  object,  his  rrowipie. 
language  must  be  such  as  his  readers  understand,  and 
understand  as  he  understands  it.  If,  being  a scholar, 
he  uses  Latiuisnis  or  Gallicisms  known  only  to  scholars 
like  himself ; if,  being  a physician  or  a lawyer,  he  uses 
legal  or  medical  cant ; or  if,  living  in  Yorkshire  or 
in  Arkansas,  he  writes  in  the  dialect  of  Y^orkshire  or  in 
that  of  Arkansas;  — his  work,  even  if  not  partially  un- 
intelligible, will  be  distasteful  to  the  general  public. 
If  he  is  so  fond  of  antiquity  as  to  prefer  a word  that 
has  not  been  in  good  use  since  the  twelfth  or  the  seven- 
teenth century  to  one  only  fifty  3’ears  old  but  in  good 
use  to-day,  he  is  in  danger  of  being  shelved  with  his 
adopted  contemporaries  ; if,  on  the  other  hand,  he  is  so 
greedy  of  novelt}'  as  to  snatch  at  the  words  of  a season, 
of  which  few  survive  the  occasion  that  gave  them  birth, 
his  work  is  likely  to  be  as  ephemeral  as  they.  By 
avoiding  vulgarity  and  pedantry  alike,  a writer,  while 
commending  himself  to  the  best  class  of  readers,  loses 
nothing  in  the  estimation  of  others ; for  those  who  do 
not  speak  or  write  pure  English  themselves  understand 
it  when  spoken  or  written  by  others,  but  rarely  under- 
stand more  than  one  variety  of  impure  English. 

The  reasons,  in  short,  which  prevent  an  English  au- 
thor from  publishing  a treatise  in  Greek,  Celtic,  or 


6 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  1 


French,  or  in  a dialect  peculiar  to  a place  or  a class, 
prohibit  him  from  employing  any  expression  not  fa- 
miliar to  the  great  body  of  cultivated  men  in  English- 
Good  use  speaking  countries,  and  not  sanctioned  by  good 
deOned.  Py  reputable^  national^  and  pres- 

ent use : reputable  as  opposed  to  vulgar  or  affected  ; 
national  as  opposed  to  foreign,  local,  or  professional ; 
present  as  opposed  to  obsolete  or  transient. 

Reputable  use  is  fixed,  not  by  the  practice  of  those 
whom  A or  B deems  the  best  speakers  or  writers,  but 
by  that  of  those  whom  the  world  deems  the  best, — 
not  the  little  world  in  which  A or  B moves,  but  the 
world  of  intelligent  people,  — those  who  are  in  the  best 
repute,  not  indeed  as  to  thought,  but  as  to  expression, 
Reputable  manner  of  communicating  thought.  The 
practice  of  no  one  writer,  however  high  he 
may  stand  in  the  public  estimation,  is  enough  to  settle 
a point ; but  the  uniform,  or  nearly  uniform,  practice  of 
reputable  speakers  or  writers  is  decisive.  Their  aim 
being  fully  and  promptly  to  communicate  what  they 
have  to  say,  they  use  the  language  best  adapted  to  that 
purpose ; and  their  use,  in  its  turn,  helps  to  fix  the  forms 
they  adopt. 

Among  common  expressions  that  are  not  in  reputable  use  are  the 
following:  on  tick;  with  vim;  (“  neckerchief  ”) ; 

swingeing  (as  in  “a  swingeing  bill”);  I allow  (“maintain”);  1 
reckon,  calculate,  guess,  or  fancy  (when  used  to  express  opinion, 
expectation,  or  intention);  shaky;  no  great  shakes  (“of  little  ac- 
count ”) ; bogus;  a new  dodge ; to  qualify  (in  the  sense  of  “to  take  an 
oath  of  office  ”) ; to  wire  or  to  cable  (“  to  telegraph  ”) ; to  skedaddle. 

These  are  specimens  of  large  classes  of  expressions  that,  whether 
in  more’  or  less  general  use,  whether  met  in  all  circles  but  the  high- 
est, in  all  parts  of  England  or  of  America,  or  only  in  one  place  or 
one  circle,  are  far  from  being  reputable. 


Chap.  I ] 


GOOD  USE. 


7 


National  use  is  fixed  by  speakers  and  writers  of 
national  reputation.  That  reputation  they 

National  use. 

were  readily  under- 
stood by  the  people  of  only  one  district  or  the  mem- 
bers of  only  one  class.  Using  language  intelligible  in 
every  district  and  to  every  class,  they  serve  to  keep 
the  common  fund  of  expression  in  general  circulation. 
Even  in  matters  of  pronunciation  and  accent,  the  stand- 
ard, though  difficult  to  find,  can  be  found  in  the  con- 
current practice  of  the  most  approved  poets  and  public 
speakers  and  of  the  most  cultivated  social  circles. 

Among  provincialisms  that  should  be  avoided  are  the  follow- 
ing: The  pronunciation  of  “news”  as  nooz;  of  “were”  and 
“ weren’t  ” as  tcaur  and  ivaurn’t,  or  wair  and  wairn'l;  of  “ sewing  ” 
as  sueing ; of  “neighbor  ” as  neehor ; of  “ chamber  ” as  chamber.  The 
use  of  shew  for  “showed;”  prooen  for  “proved;”  india-rubbers  or 
gunisioT  “over-shoes;”  vest  for  “waistcoat;  ” slice  (current  in  some 
parts  of  England  and  in  south-eastern  Massachusetts)  for  “fire- 
shovel;”  folks  for  “ people  ” or  “ family;  ” flit,  flitting,  for  “ move  ” 
or  “ remove,”  and  “ moving”  or  “ removing;  ” yon  for  “ that;  ” to 
hail  from,  in  the  sen.se  of  “to  report  as  one’s  home;”  part  for  “re- 
gion” (as  “Switzerland  is  a mountainous  part”);  this  for  “this 
place;”  in  this  connecU'on  for  “ in  connection  with  this  subject;” 
“ I ’ll  be  back  to  rights  ” for  “ pi’esently ; ” right  off,  right  aicay,  for 
“immediately;”  “it  rains  right  (for  “very”)  hard;”  right  here 
(for  “ at  this  point  ”)  ; a smart  sprinkle,  a smart  chance,  a smart  boy, 
for  “ a heavy  shower,”  “ a good  chance,”  “ a bi'ight  boy;”  bully  or 
ci-ack  for  “excellent;  ” bummers  for  “ camp-followers ; ” fetch  up  for 
“ bring  up”  (as  a child)  ; “ I should  admire  (for  “ like  ”)  to  see;  ” 
to  stop  for  “ to  stay;  ” ilk  for  “ same,”  — as  “ Bradwardine  of  that 
ilk,”  1 meaning  “ Bradwardine  of  Bradwardine,” — or  for  “ kind,” 
as  “ Tyler  and  others  of  that  ilk;  ” disremember  ; boughten  (as  dis- 
tinguished from  “ home-made  ”) ; lumber  for  “ timber;  ” The  States 
for  “The  United  States;”  elective  or  optional  (for  “elective,”  or 
“optional,  studies”). 


could  not  enjoy,  if  they 


1 Scott : Wavcrley,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xiv. 


8 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Rook  I. 


Instances  of  expressions  that  have  come  from  professional  into 
more  or  less  general,  hut  not  into  good,  use  are  the  following:  From 
the  law,  aforesaid  or  said  (as  “ the  said  man  ”),  on  the  docket^  entail 
(in  the  sense  of  “bring  ”),  “ and  now  comes  ” (at  the  beginning  of  a 
paragraph),  I claim  (in  the  sense  of  “maintain  ”)  that;  from  the  pul- 
pit, on  the  anxious  seat,  jdifacter;/,  adcent,  hierarchy,  neophyte ; from 
medicine,  affection  (as  “ an  affection  of  the  liver  ”)  ; from  commerce, 
balance  (as  “the  balance  of  the  day  was  given  to  talk”),  “in  his 
line,'"  A No.  1;  from  the  Congressional  dialect,  to  champion  (“sup- 
port ”)  a measure,  to  antagonize,  — two  measures  contending  for 
precedence  in  the  order  of  legislation  are  said  to  antagonize  each 
other,  a senator  is  said  to  antagonize  (‘  ‘ oppose  ’ ’)  a bill  or  another 
senator;  from  mathematics,  to  differentiate  (in  the  sense  of  “to 
make  a difference  between  ”);  from  a school  in  political  economy, 
tcage  and  wage-fund  (“  wages,  wages-fund  ”),  to  appreciate  and  to 
depreciate  (in  the  sense  of  “to  rise,”  or  “to  fall,  in  value  ”)  ; from 
the  stock-market,  to  aggregate  (in  the  sense  of  “to  amount  to,”  as 
“ the  sales, aggregated'-  fifty  thousand  shares”),  to  take  stock  in,  above 
par;  from  mining,  to  pati  out,  hard  pan,  to  get  down  to  bed  rock,  to 
strike  a bonanza  or  to  strike  oil  (in  the  sense  of  “ to  succeed”),  these 
diggings  (“  this  section  ”). 

The  following  are  instances  of  foreign  expressions  to  which  Eng- 
lish equivalents  are  preferable:  nee  (“  Casaubon  born  Brooke”^ 
is  preferable),  on  the  tap'is  (carpet),  coup  de  soleil  (sunstroke), 
trottoir  (sidewalk),  motif  (motive),  morceau  (piece),  emeute  (riot), 
fracas  (brawl),  abattoir  (slaughter-house), /eua:  d’’ artifice  (fireworks), 
depot  (station),  gamin  (street  boy,  street  Anib),  chevalier  d'industrie 
(adventurer),  bas  bleu  (blue-stocking),  derailment  (said  of  a train 
thrown  off  the  track).® 

Words  in  good  use  in  the  United  States  are  to  be  preferred  by 
an  American  to  those  not  heard  out  of  Great  Britain:  as  coal  to 
coals,  pitcher  to  jug,  honor  to  honour,  railroad  cars  to  carriages, 
horse  railroad  to  tramway,  trunks  to  boxes,  wharves  to  ivharfs.  An 
Englishman,  on  the  other  hand,  should,  as  matter  of  national  use, 
I,  'refer  the  English  to  the  American  form. 

Present  use  is  determined  neither  authors  wlio 
wrote  so  long  ago  that  their  diction  has  become  anti- 
quated, nor  by  those  whose  national  reputation  is  not 

' See  also  p.  60.  ^ George  Eliot : Micldlemarch. 

* See,  for  other  examples,  p.  22. 


Chap.  I.] 


GOOD  USE. 


9 


firmly  established.  Not  even  the  authority  of  Shaks- 
pere,  of  Milton,  or  of  Johnson,  though  supported  by  the 
uniform  practice  of  his  contemporaries,  iusti- 

^ ^ Present  use* 

fies  an  expression  that  has  been  disused  for 
fifty  years;  nor  does  the  adoption  by  many  newspapers 
of  a new  word,  or  of  an  old  word  in  a new  sense,  estab- 
lish it  in  the  language.  In  both  cases,  time  is  the  court 
of  last  resort;  and  the  decisions  of  this  court  are  made 
known  by  recent  writers  of  national  reputation. 

The  exact  boundaries  of  present  use  cannot,  however, 
be  fixed  with  precision.  Dr.  Campbell,  writ- 
ing  in  the  last  century,  held  that  no  word 
should  be  deemed  in  present  use  which  was  not  to  be 
found  in  works  written  since  1G88,  or  which  was  found 
only  in  the  works  of  living  authors ; but  in  these  da3's 
of  change,  words  come  and  go  more  rapidly.  New 
things  call  for  new  names  ; and  the  new  names,  if  gen- 
erally accepted,  will,  in  a few  years,  come  with  the 
new  things  into  present  use.  The  history  of  gas,  steam, 
mining,  of  the  railroad,  of  the  telegraph,  abounds  in 
familiar  instances.  When,  on  the  other  hand,  the  study 
of  anental  and  moral  philosophy  received,  in  the  early 
part  of  the  century,  an  impulse  from  Germany,  words 
long  disused  were  recalled  to  life. 

'•'•Reason  and  understanding^  as  words  denominative  of  distinct 
faculties;  the  adjectives  sensuous,  transcendental,  sidtjective  and  objec- 
tive, supernatural,  as  an  aiipellation  of  the  spiritual,  or  that  imma- 
terial essence  which  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  cause  and  effect, 
and  is  thus  distinguished  from  that  which  is  natural,  — are  all 
words  revived,  not  invented,  by  the  school  of  Coleridge.”' 

Again : words  may  be  in  present  rise  in  poetry  which 
are  obsolete,  or  almost  obsolete,  in  prose. 


1 INfarsli : English  Language,  lect.  viii. 


10 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


Examples  in  point  are:  ere,  anon,  mount,  vale,  nigh,  save  (for 
“except”),  betwixt,  bight,  scarce  and  exceeding  (for  “scarcely” 
and  “ exceedingly  ”),  erst,  whilom,  mine  (as  in  “ mine  host  ”),  ire, 
withal,  hath,  yclept,  yore,  quoth,  bine,  don,  doff,  nay  and  yea,  ivhilst. 

Byron  can  sing  of  “the  Isles  of  Greece,”  but  an  historian  would 
speak  of  “islands.”  Tennyson  can  rampire  and  s/ioora  where 
prose  would  write  “ rampart  ” and  “shoes,”  just  as  he  can  call  the 
sky  “the  breezy  blue.’” 

So,  too,  words  are  obsolete  for  one  kind  of  prose,  but 
not  for  another.  An  historical  novel,  for  example,  may 
indulge  in  expressions,  now  obsolete,  that  are  charac- 
teristic of  the  time  in  which  the  scene  is  laid ; but 
care  should  be  taken  not  to  make  such  expressions  so 
numerous  as  to  render  the  work  unintelligible  to  ordi- 
nary readers.  All  that  can  be  done  is  to  suggest  anti- 
quity. In  Thackeray’s  “ Henry  Esmond,”  for  example, 
’tis  for  it  is  (a  peculiarity  of  “ The  Spectator,”  but  rare 
in  modern  prose''*)  goes  far  to  take  the  reader  back  to 
Queen  Anne’s  time. 

In  all  cases,  “ the  question  is  not,  whether  a diction  is  antiquated 
for  current  speech,  but  whether  it  is  antiquated  for  that  particular- 
purpose  for  which  it  is  employed.  A diction  that  is  antiquated 
for  common  speech  and  common  prose,  may  very  well  not  be  anti- 
quated for  poetry  or  certain  special  kinds  of  prose.  ‘ Peradventure 
there  shall  be  ten  found  there,’  is  not  antiquated  for  Biblical  prose, 
though  for  conversation  or  for  a newspaper  it  is  antiquated.  ‘ The 
trumpet  spake  not  to  the  armed  throng  ’ is  not  antiquated  for  poetry, 
although  we  should  not  write  in  a letter,  ‘ he  spake  to  me,’  or  say, 
‘ the  British  soldier  is  armed  with  the  Enfield  rifle.’  ” ^ 

These  principles  taken  for  granted,  it  follows  that 
grammarians  and  lexicographers  have  no  authority  not 
derived  from  good  use.  Their  business  is  to  record  in  a 

' p.  79. 

Used  frequently,  however,  b3'  R.  W.  Emerson. 

® Matthew  Arnold : Essays  in  Criticism,  p.  385. 


Chap.  I.] 


GOOD  USE. 


11 


convenient  form  the  decision  of  every  case  in  which 
recent  writers  or  speakers  of  national  repu- 

. 11  11  Analogy  be- 

tation  are  ao-reed  ; but  they  have  no  more  tween  law 

.1  11.  . 11..  1 and  language. 

right  to  call  in  question  such  a decision  than 

the  compiler  of  a digest  has  to  overrule  a legislature  or 

a court. 

When,  however,  usage  is  divided,  when  each  of  two 
forms  of  expression  is  almost  equally  supported  by  au- 
thority, there  is  room  for  argument,  as  there  is  when 
legal  precedents  conflict.  In  the  latter  case,  the  ques- 
tion is  looked  at  in  the  light  of  the  general  principles 
of  law ; in  the  former  case,  the  question  may  be  looked 
at  in  the  light  of  the  general  principles  of  language  : 
in  both  cases,  a critic’s  conclusion  is  ah  expression  of 
personal  opinion,  not  an  authoritative  decision.  It  binds 
nobody,  and  it  is  frequently  overruled. 


12 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY, 


[Book  I. 


CHAPTER  II. 

EULES  IN  CASES  OF  DIVIDED  USAGE. 

In  the  determination  of  cases  of  divided  usage,  the 
best  practical  guides  are  some,  though  not  all,  of  the 
canons  framed  by  Dr.  Campbell,  and  adopted,  sometimes 
without  due  credit,  by  writers  on  Rhetoric  since  his  day. 

Canon  1}  When,  of  two  words  or  phrases  in  equally 
good  use,  one  is  susceptible  of  two  significations  and 
the  other  is  susceptible  of  but  one  signification,  the 
The  canon  of  — being  the  form  of  expression  which  is 

perspicuity,  every  instance  univocal — should  be  pre- 

ferred. The  effect  of  following  this  canon  is  to  give 
each  word  one  distinct  meaning. 

By  consequence  or  in  consequence,  in  the  sense  of  “ consequently,” 
is  preferable  to  of  consequence,  since  the  latter  also  means  “impor- 
tant;” admittance,  as  in  “No  admittance  except  on  business,”  is 
preferable  to  admission,  since  the  latter  also  means  “ confession  ” or 
“acknowledgment;”  insurance  to  assurance  policy,  since  “assur- 
ance ” also  means  “ confidence.”  International  Exhibition  is  pref- 
erable to  International  Exposition,  since  “exposition”  has  long 
been  used  in  another  meaning,  as  in  “ an  exposition  of  doctrine;  ” 
choir,  “ singers,”  and  sat,  past  of  “ to  sit,”  forms  universally  used 
in  the  United  States,  are  preferable  to  quire  ^ and  sate,‘^  these  having 
other  well-established  meanings.  A fterwards,  as  an  adverb,  is  pref- 
erable to  after,  since  the  latter  is  also  used  as  a preposition.  A ught, 
in  the  sense  of  “ any  thing,”  is  preferable  to  ought,  the  latter  being 
a tense  of  the  verb  to  owe ; but  nought  (“  nothing  ”)  is  preferable  to 
tiaught,  the  latter  being  an  old  form  of  naughty.  Draft,  in  the 
sense  of  an  order  for  money,  a “sketch”  (as  for  a speech),  or 

' This  and  the  following  canons  are  taken  in  substance  from  Dr.  Camp- 
bell’s Klietoric. 

- Scott,  JIacaulay,  George  Eliot. 


Chap.  II.]  liULES  IN  CASES  OF  DIVIDED  USAGE. 


13 


a “drawing  of  men”  (as  in  war),  is  preferable  to  the  latter 

having  several  other  meanings.  Belative,  in  the  sense  of  “ member 
of  a family,”  is  preferable  to  relation.  Wc.  should  say  I sprang  and 
I shrank,  rather  than  I sprung  and  I shrunk,  since  sprung  and  shrunk 
are  also  the  participial  forms ; a thing  hidden  or  forgotten,  rather 
than  hid  or  forgot,  hid  oxidi  forgot  being  the  forms  of  the  past  in- 
dicative. A similar  argument  applies  to  gotten;  but  some  prefer 
got,  on  the  ground  that  gotten  is  harsh  or  affected. 

A centuiy  ago  there  was  a question  between  “ I have  eat  ” and 
“I  have  eaten,”  ‘.‘I  have  wrote”  and  “I  have  icritten,”  “I  liave 
hore  ” and  “ I have  home ; ” ^ but  usage  has  determined  in  favor  of 
the  latter  form  in  each  pair.  “ I have  drank”  is  still  ^ found  instead 
of  “ I have  drunk]  ” but  the  great  weight  of  authority,  as  well  as  the 
princi^de  of  this  canon,  favors  the  latter.  “ I sung,”  ^ “ I drunk,” 
“ I begun,”  “ I have  spoke,”  * “ I have  heat,”  though  often  used  col- 
loquially for  “ I sang,”  “ I drank,”  “ I began,”  “ I have  spoken,” 
“ I have  beaten,”  and  sometimes  to  be  found  in  good  authors,  hardly 
fall  under  this  canon,  so  strongly  does  usage  favor  the  second  form. 

Under  this  head  may  be  classed  a few  words  that,  though  appar- 
ently meaning  the  exact  opposite  of  each  other,  are  sometimes  used 
ill  the  same  sense.  Thus  unloose  is  found  in  the  sense  of  “ loose,”  ® 
disannul  in  the  sense  of  “ annul,”  ® unravel  in  the  sense  of  “ravel,”  ’ 
embowel  in  the  sense  of  “disembowel,”  ® unrip  in  the  sense  of  “ rip.”  * 
In  all  these  cases,  the  second  word  of  each  pair  is  preferable  to  the 
first. 

Canon  II.  In  doubtful  cases,  tlie  analogy  of  the  lan- 
guage should  be  regarded. 

In  the  third  person  singular  of  the  present  tense  of  the  verbs 
“to  dare”  and  “to  need,”  dare  and  need  are  some-  The  canon  of 
times  written  instead  of  dares  and  needs.  Under  this  an.alogy. 
canon,  the  latter  form,  which  is  that  of  almost  all  English  verbs, 
is  to  be  preferred. 

On  the  principle  of  analogjq  would  rather  and  might  better  are 


1 Lowth  : Grammar.  Campbell : 

* Noah  Webster:  Dictionary. 

* Charles  Iteade. 

® G.  Herbert. 

8 Ilallam. 

18  See,  however,  p.  15. 


lihetoric. 

8 Tennyson. 

5 Shakspere. 

7 Young. 

9 Bacon.  Jeremy  Taylor. 


14 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


preferable  to  had  rather  and  had  better.  The  latter  forms  have  long 
been  in  use,  and  are  still  found  in  good  authors  as  well  as  in  good 
society;  but  they  have  no  apparent  advantage  over  the  other  forms, 
which  are  in  at  least  equally  good  use,  and  are  also  in  accordance 
with  the  analogy  of  the  language. 

Canon  III.  Other  things  being  equal,  the  simpler 
and  briefer  form  should  be  chosen. 

“ We  say  either  accept  or  accept  of,  admit  or  admit  of,  approve  or 
approve  of;  in  like  manner  address  or  address  to,  attain  or  attain  to. 
The  canon  of  instances  it  will  hold,  I suppose,  pretty  gener- 

brevity.  ally,  that  the  simple  form  is  preferable.  This  appears 
particularly  in  the  passive  voice,  in  which  every  one  must  see  the 
difference.  • ‘ His  present  was  accepted  of  by  his  friend  ’ — ‘ His 
excuse  was  admitted  of  by  his  master  ’ — ‘ The  magistrates  were 
addressed  to  by  the  townsmen,’  are  evidently  much  worse  than 
‘ His  present  was  accepted  by  his  friend  ’ — ‘ His  excuse  was  ad- 
mitted by  his  master  ’ — ‘The  magistrates  were  addressed  by  the 
townsmen.’  AVe  have  but  too  many  of  this  awkward,  disjointed 
sort  of  compounds,  and  therefore  ought  not  to  multiply  them  with- 
out necessity.”  ' 

Some  of  the  expressions  quoted  by  Campbell  are  no  longer  met, 
but  compounds  as  awkward  and  disjointed  as  any  he  condemns  are 
daily  multiplied  without  necessity.  For  instance,  we  examine  into, 
open  up,  curb  in,  clamber  up  into,  breed  up,  mix  up,  freshen  up,  fill  up, 
brush  off  of , crave  for,  bridge  over,  follow  after,  treat  upon,  trace  out, 
connect  together,  slur  over,  soften  off,  meet  with,  meet  together,  inspire 
into.^  In  all  such  cases,  the  added  particle,  wherever  it  is  not  needed 
to  complete  the  meaning,  should  be  omitted,  as  being  always  super- 
fluous and  often  worse  than  superfluous. 

Under  this  canon,  nowise,  Ukeivise,  anyivise,  are  preferable  to  in 
nowise,  in  likewise,  in  anywise.  We  still,  however,  have  to  say  in  this 
wise,  in  that  wise,  in  such  wise,  no  shorter  forms  being  in  good  use. 

“ House  to  let’’’’  is  preferable  to  “house  to  be  let;”  whence,  thence, 
and  hence,  to  from  tvhence,^  <S:c. 

Canon  IV.  Of  two  forms  of  expression  otherwise  in 
equally  good  use,  the  one  which  is  more  agreeable  to  the 
ear  should  be  chosen. 

* Campbell : Rhetoric,  book  ii.  chap.  ii. 

- A respectable  English  journal  has  learn  up  (1878).  ® See  p.  115, 


Chap.  II.]  EULES  IN  CASES  OF  DIVIDED  USAGE. 


15 


Under  this  canon,  Dr.  Campbell  prefers  delicacy,  authenticity, 
and  vindictive,  to  delicateness,  authenticalness,  and  vin-  canon  of 
dicatiue,  — decisions  which  have  been  sustained  by  time.  euphony. 
Aversion  has  supplanted  averseness ; artificiality,  artificialness ; and 
scarcity  is  supplanting  scarceness. 

The  principle  of  euphony  has,  perhaps,  a greater  influence 
upon  the  language  than  some  grammarians  admit.  Not  infre- 
(piently,  it  overrides  other  principles.  Thus,  notwithstanding 
Canon  I.,  it  prohibits  da«7«7y,  holily,  jollily,  Jicarenlily,  timelily,  home- 
lily,  and  the  like,  preferring  to  such  forms  the  inconvenience 
of  having  but  one  form  — “daily,”  “homely,”  &c. — for  botli 
adjective  and  adverb;  and  it  overrules  the  argument  that  would 
make  forwards  and  backwards  the  sole  adverbial  forms  in  order  to 
distinguish  them  from  the  adjectives  forward  and  hackicard.  “ For- 
wards, march!  ” would  be  intolerable.  So,  too,  as  betw-een  beside 
and  besides,  toward  and  toicards,  homeward  and  homewards,  the  ear 
naturally  chooses  the  form  that  sounds  best  in  the  sentence;  as,  — 
“The  ploughman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way.”  1 

Notwithstanding  Canon  II.,  euphony  frequently  prefers  need  and 
dare  to  needs  and  dares ; as,  — 

“ What  is  not  true  in  the  case  of  this  usage  need  not  be  true.”  * 
“A  bard  to  sing  of  deeds  he  dare  not  emuhate.”  * 

Brevity,  too,  may  be  sacrificed  to  euphony.  “ With  difficulty  ” is 
preferable  to  difficultly  ;*  “ most  honest, beautiful,  pious,  distant,  deli- 
cate,” to  honestest,  beaut i f ullest^  ffiousest,  distantest,^  delicatest; ® “ most 
unquestionable,  virtuous,  indispensable,  generous,  more  genteel,”  to 
unqucstionablest,^  virtuousest,^  indispensablest,^  generousest,^  genteeler  f 
and  the  same  princijile  liolds  with  many  dissyllabic  and  with  most 
polysyllabic  adjectives.  “ Clearer”  is  better  than  more  clear. 

It  is,  of  course,  wrong  to  give  undue  weight  to  con- 
siderations of  euphony, — to  sacrifice  sense  to  sound, 
strength  to  melody,  or  compactness  to  pleasant  verbos- 
ity ; but  wlierever  one  can,  without  serious  loss,  substi- 
tute a word  that  is  agreeable  to  the  ear  for  an  extremelj! 

’ Gray : Elegy  in  a Country  Churchyard. 

2 Dr.  J.  11.  Newman : Essays,  Criticiil  and  Historical,  vol.  i.  p.  224.  ^ Scott. 

^ Yet  Bentham  condemns  words  that  he  calls  “difficultly  pronounceable.” 

' Kuskin.  ® Carlyle.  ’ Thackeray. 


16 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


disagreeable  one,  or  avoid  an  expression  unusually  diffi- 
cult to  pronounce,  this  should  be  done. 

Canon  V.  In  the  few  cases  in  which  neither  perspicuity 
The  canon  of  f^Balogy,  neither  sound  nor  simplicity,  de- 
ancient  usage,  temiiiies  the  questioii  between  two  forms  of 
expression  equally  favored  by  good  authors,  we  should 
choose  the  one  which  conforms  to  the  older  usage. 


On  this  ground,  “jail,”  the  form  used  in  America,  is  pi'efer- 
ahle  to  gaol C “begin”  to  commence  (“Things  never  began  with 
Ml’.  Borthrop  Trumbull:  they  always  commenced  both  in  private  life 
and  on  his  handbills”^);  “photographer”  to  pliotograplust,  and 
the  like;  “trustworthy”  to  reliable^  (where  there  is  no  difference 
of  meaning).  Though,  under  this  canon,  “man  of  science”  is 
preferable  to  scientist  * the  superior  brevity  of  scientist  is  likely  to 
caiTy  the  day ; though  the  active  participle  in  ing  is  in  many  cases 
preferable  to  the  passive  form  with  being,  — “ corn  is  selling  ” to  is 
being  sold,  “ a house  is  building  ” to  is  being  built,  — yet  the  modern 
form  is  sometimes  necessary  to  remove  ambiguity:  “is  beating,” 
for  instance,  will  hardly  do  for  is  being  beaten. 

Valuable  as  these  canons  are  in  determining  the  choice 
between  two  forms  of  speech  equally  favored  by  good 
use,  helpful  as  they  may  be  in  keeping  both  archaisms 
Good  use  vulgarisms  out  of  the  language,  there 

supreme,  pg  appeal  to  them  in  a case  once  de- 
cided. In  such  a case,  the  protests  of  scholars  and  the 
dogmatism  of  lexicographers  are  equally  unavailing. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Swift  fought  against  the  words. 


’ Macaulay.  Gladstone. 

^ George  Eliot:  Middlemarcli,  book  iii.  chap,  xxxii. 

^ The  argument  from  analogy  against  this  word,  to  the  effect  that,  if  it  is 
to  exist  at  all,  it  should  be  relyuponalle,  is,  however,  answered  by  the  existence, 
in  spite  of  the  alleged  analogy,  of  familiar  words  like  indispensable,  disposable; 
not  to  speak  of  laughable,  inextricable, — words  which  it  is  possible  to  distinguish 
from  reliable.  See  “ On  English  Adjectives  in  Able,  with  special  reference  to 
Reliable,”  by  Fitzedward  Hall  (1877).  Words,  however,  like  actable  (Prof.  Henry 
Morley  in  The  XIXth  Centurj'^,  1878),  dependable  (revived  by  The  Saturday  Re^ 
view  and  The  Spectator),  recitable,  should  be  discouraged. 

■*  Coined,  it  is  said,  by  Dr.Whewcll. 


CuAr.  II.]  RULES  IN  CASES  OF  DIVIDED  USAGE. 


17 


moh^  banter,  reconnoitre,  ambassador ; that  Dr.  Johnson 
roared  at  clever,  fan,  nowadays,  and  punch ; that  Dr. 
Campbell  lost  his  temper  over  dancing  attendance,  pell- 
mell,  as  lief,  ignore,  subject-matter;  that  Bishop  Lowth 
insisted  that  sitten  — though,  as  he  admitted,  “ almost 
Avholly  disused”  — was,  on  the  principle  of  analogy,  the 
only  correct  form  for  the  past  participle  of  to  sit;  that 
Landor  wished  to  spell  as  Milton  did,  objected  to  antique 
and  to  this  (in  place  of  these')  means,  declared  '''•passenger 
and  messenger  coarse  and  barbarous  for  passager  and  mes- 
sager,  and  nothing  the  better  for  having  been  adopted 
into  polite  society,”  and  said  that  to  talk  about  a man 
of  talent  was  to  talk  “ like  a fool ; ” ^ that  Coleridge 
insisted  on  using  or  with  neither;  that  the  (London) 
Times  for  years  wrote  diocess  for  “ diocese,”  chymistry 
for  “ chemistry ; ” or  that  Abraham  Lincoln  wrote  in  his 
messages  to  Congress  abolishment  instead  of  “ abolition.” 
It  is  in  vain  that  the  writer  who  cannot  forgive  the  lan- 
guage for  taking  so  kindly  to  ^7s,‘■^  would  have  poets 
called  “ makers,”  and  rhyme,  “ rime  ; ” or  that  Mr.  E.  A. 
Freeman  seeks  to  resuscitate  the  more  part  in  the  Bibli- 
cal sense  of  “the  greater  part,”  and  mickle  in  the  sense 
of  “great,”  — as  in  his  '■'•mickle  worship,”  '•'■mickle  min- 
ster of  Rheims.”®  The  recent  efforts  of  grammarians 
on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  to  keep  telegram  out  of  the 
language  utterly  failed.  So  did  the  attempt  of  the  late 
Senator  Sumner,  in  the  following  letter,  to  substitute 
a rare  for  a well-known  word  : — 

‘ ‘ With  these  views  I find  the  various  processes  of  annexion " 
only  a natural  manifestation  to  be  encouraged  always,  and  to  be 

1 Landor:  Works,  vol.  iv.  pp.  175,  2.31.  Forster:  Life  of  Landor,  book  viii. 

2 See  p.  3.  ® History  of  the  Norman  Conquest. 

* The  question  was  whether  to  annex  Charlestown  to  Boston. 


18 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


welcomed  under  proper  conditions  of  population  and  public  opinion. 
I say  ‘ annexion  ’ rather  than  ‘ annexation.’  Where  a word  is  so 
much  used,  better  save  a syllable,  especially  as  the  shorter  is  the 
better.  ’ ’ 

For  two  or  three  days  after  the  publication  of  this 
letter,  some  of  the  local  journals  followed  Mr.  Sumner’s 
lead ; but  in  a week  his  suggestion  was  forgotten. 

Such  is  the  fate  of  all  attempts  to  stem  the  current  of 
usage,  when  it  strongly  sets  one  way. 


Chap.  Ill  ] 


BAKBAllISMS. 


19 


CHAPTER  III. 

BAKBAKISMS. 

The  offences  against  the  usage  of  the  English  lan- 
guage are:  (1)  Barbarisms,  words  not  English;  (2)  Sol- 
ecisms, constructions  not  English ; (3)  Improprieties, 
words  or  phrases  used  in  a sense  not  English.^ 

Barbarisms  are : (1)  words  which,  though  formerly 
in  good  use,  are  now  obsolete  ; (2)  words,  whether  of 
native  growth  or  of  foreign  extraction,  which  have 
never  established  themselves  in  the  language  ; (3)  new 
formations  from  words  in  good  use. 


SECTION  I. 

Obsolete  Words. 

“Language,  like  every  thing  else  in  the  world,  is  sub- 
ject to  change.  It  is  not  so  much  men  as  times  that 
differ.  Events  go  on ; with  them,  ideas,  words,  all  the 
forms  of  a language,  are  subject  to  one  and  the  same 
law.  The  expressive  words,  the  happy  turns  of  phrase, 
used  in  the  Middle  Ages,  are  sometimes  regretted ; but 
people  forget  that  time  leaves  behind  it  only  that  which 

is  no  longer  used.”  2 

1 See,  for  the  corresponding  excellences,  p.  2. 

* X.  Doudan : Mtdanges,  tome  i. ; De  la  Nouvelle  £cole  Po(!Uque. 


20 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


Yet  Swift  maintained  that  “it  is  better  a lanfruaCTe 
Swift’s  strange  whollj  perfect  than  that  it 

proposal,  should  be  perpetually  changing ; ” that,  there- 
fore, “ some  method  should  be  thought  on  for  ascer- 
taining and  fixing  our  language  for  ever,  after  such 
alterations  in  it  as  shall  be  thought  reqiiisite ; ” and 
that,  to  this  end,  “ no  word  which  a society  shall  give 
a sanction  to,  be  afterward  antiquated  and  exploded, 
because  then  the  old  books  will  yet  be  always  valua- 
ble according  to  their  intrinsic  worth,  and  not  thrown 
aside  on  account  of  unintelligible  words  and  phrases, 
which  appear  harsh  and  uncouth  only  because  they  are 
out  of  fashion.”  1 

Strange  that  so  shrewd  a man  as  Swift  should  not 
have  drawn  the  natural  inference  from  his  last  expres- 
sion, should  not  have  perceived  that  words,  like  things, 
are  useless  when  out  of  fashion,  and  that  they  will 
The  fashion  inevitably  go  out  of  fashion  with  the  things 
ofianguage.  -which  they  name.  When,  for  instance,  the 
invention  of  gunpowder  put  an  end  to  hawking  and 
archery,  it  also  rendered  most  of  the  words  in  the  vocab- 
ularies descriptive  of  those  sports  obsolete  in  both  their 
literal  and  their  figurative  meanings. 

The  analogy  suggested  by  Swift’s  expression  is,  in- 
deed, complete.  Old-fashioned  words  give  stateliness 
to  poetry,  as  brocades  and  knee-breeches  give  dignity  to 
a ceremonial;  but,  on  ordinary  occasions,  the  former  are 
as  much  out  of  place  as  the  latter.  Those  who,  knowing 
the  present  fashions,  wilfully  disregard  them,  are  guilty 
of  affectation ; those  who  do  not  know  them  show  their 
ignorance. 

f A Proposal  for  Correcting,  Improving,  and  Ascertaining  the  English 
Tongue.  (1712.) 


Chap.  III.] 


BARBARISMS. 


21 


Examples  of  such  affectation  are:  volcano  pronounced  with 
the  Italian  a.}  discomfortable  (for  “uncomfortable”),  wilhouten,^ 
muchly,'^  brayly,^  bullldn,^  commonweal^  (for  “commonwealth”), 
mote  (as  “so  mote  it  be”),  otherwhere,^  adit  (as  “their  adits  and 
exits  ”®),  whiles,^  litten,^  twifold,^  soothly,’’  in  the  like  sort.^  Exam- 
ples of  such  ignorance  are;  beholden  for  “obliged,”  afeard  for, 
“afraid,”  axe  for  “ask,”  obleeyed  for  “obliged,”  collegiate  (as  a 
noun)  for  “ collegian,”  contrdry  for  “ contrary,”  party  for  “ person,” 
mischievous  for  “mischievous.” 

SECTION  II. 

New  Words. 

The  exigencies  of  expression  determine  what  words 
shall  come  into  a language  as  well  as  what  words  shall 
go  out  of  it.  Thus,  the  invention  of  gunpowder,  at  the 
same  time  that  it  rendered  the  vocabulary  of  archery 
useless,  introduced  a vocabulary  of  its  own.  So,  too, 
the  nation  which  excels  in  an  art  or  science 
furnishes  to  other  nations  many  of  the  terms  of  origin, 
that  art,  the  name  of  a new  thing  being  usually  adopted 
at  the  same  time  with  the  thing. 

Almanac,  alcohol,  chemistry,  tariff,  come  to  us  from  the  Arabic; 
corral,  alligator,  cargo,  embargo,  sierra,  stampede,  ranch,  cigar,  from 
the  Spanish;  canoe,  squaiv,  wigwam,  tomahaick,  from  the  North 
American  Indian;  yacht,  from  the  Dutch;  pagoda,  nabob,  pundit, 
jungle,  from  Hindostan;  taboo,  from  Polynesia;  panic,  sycophant, 
from  Greece;  caste,  commodore,  from  Portugal;  chess,  shawl,  from 
Persia;  hurricane,  from  the  West  Indies.  The  French  language 
has  contributed  to  the  English  many  of  the  terms  of  warfare 
(abatis),  of  diplomacy  (envoy),  of  fashionable  intercourse  (etiquette), 

1 “ A sort  of  shibboleth  of  the  English  nobility.”  Fitzedward  Ilall : Modern 
English,  p.  319. 

^ F.  W.  Newman : Translation  of  Ilomer ; quoted  by  Matthew  Arnold ; 
Essays  in  Criticism,  p.  385.  ^ Swinburne:  Essays  and  Studies. 

■*  Archbishop  Trench : Lectures  on  Plutarch. 

® Sir  Arthur  Helps:  Social  Pressure. 

® William  Morris:  Translation  of  The  .<Encids. 

8 E.  A.  Freeman.  For  other  examples,  see  p.  17. 


T Morris:  Jason. 


22 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


of  cookery  (omelette),  of  the  fine  arts  (amateur)-,  and  it  has  bor- 
rowed from  the  English  words  relating  to  nautical  affairs  (brick 
from  “brig”),  or  political  affairs  (budget),'  to  home  life  (conforta- 
lle),  and  to  manly  sports  (jockey). 


This  privilege  of  borrowing  from  our  neighbors  should 
not,  however,  be  carried  bejmnd  the  limits  prescribed 
by  good  usage,  — limits  fixed  by  necessity  or  the  general 
convenience.  Even  within  these  limits,  the  introduc- 


Obstacles  to 
their  intro- 
duction. 


tion  of  a foreign  word  is  attended  with  seri- 


ous drawbacks.  Time  — ■ sometimes  more, 
sometimes  less  — is  required  for  such  a word 
to  become  familiar ; and  it  will  never,  perhaps,  quite 
tlirow  off  its  foreign  air.  A native  word,  moreover,  is 
one  of  a numerous  family ; but  a French  or  a German 
Avord  often  comes  alone,  and  rarely,  if  ever,  is  accom- 
panied by  all  the  words  of  the  same  origin  with  itself. 


Even  if  exposition  should  finally  supplant  exhibition,  we  should 
still  be  unable  to  say  to  expose,  exposants,  expositor,  instead  of  to 
exhibit  and  the  cognate  words ; and  if  a new  derivative  were  required, 
an  Englishman  would  naturally  form  it  from  to  exhibit,  a Frenchman 
from  exposer. 

Though  these  incoiiA^eniences  constitute  no  sufficient 
objection  to  the  use  either  of  a foreign  expression  which 
has  been  naturalized  or  of  one  Avhich  supplies  an  obvi- 
ous need,  they  should,  in  all  other  cases,  be  decisive. 
Unfortunately,  however,  the  temptation  to  strut  in  bor- 
rowed finery  is  often  too  strong  to  be  resisted. 

“ We  need  only  glance  into  ° one  of  the  periodical  representatives 
Borrowed  fashionable  literature,  or  into  a novel  of  the  day, 

finery.  see  how  serious  this  assault  upon  the  purity  of  the 

English  language  has  become.  The  chances  are  more  than  equal 
that  we  shall  fall  in  with  a wi'iter  who  considers  it  a point  of  honor 
to  choose  all  his  most  emphatic  words  from  a French  vocabulary, 
and  who  would  thiuk  it  a lamentable  falling  off  in  his  style,  did  he 

* Originally  from  the  Fi'ench  bougette  (leather  bag),  now  obsolete. 

“ Query  as  tc  this  preposition. 


Chap.  III.] 


BARBARISMS. 


23 


write  half-a-dozen  sentences  without  employing  at  least  half  that 
number  of  foreign  words.  Ilis  heroes  are  always  marked  by  an 
air  distingue ; his  vile  men  are  sure  to  be  biases ; his  lady  friends 
never  merely  dance  or  dress  well,  they  dance  or  dress  a merveille ; 
and  he  himself  when  lolling  on  the  sofa  under  the  spirit  of  laziness 
does  not  simply  enjoy  his  rest,  he  luxuriates  in  the  dolce  far  niente, 
and  wonders  when  he  will  manage  to  begin  his  magnum  opus.  And 
so  he  carries  us  through  his  story,  running  off  into  hackneyed 
French,  Italian,  or  Latin  expressions  whenever  he  has  any  thing  to 
say  which  he  thinks  should  be  graphically  or  emphatically  said.  It 
really  seems  as  if  he  thought  the  English  language  too  meagre,  or 
too  commonplace  a dress,  in  which  to  clothe  his  thoughts.  The 
tongue  which  gave  a noble  utterance  to  the  thoughts  of  Shakspere 
and  Milton  is  altogether  insufficient  to  express  the  more  cosmo- 
politan ideas  of  Smith,  or  Tomkins,  or  Jenkins! 

“We  have  before  us  an  article  from  tlie  pen  of  a very  clever 
writer;  and,  as  it  appears  in  a magazine  which  specially  professes 
to  represent  the  ‘ best  society,’  it  may  be  taken  as  a good  specimen 
of  the  style.  It  describes  a dancing  party,  and  we  discover  for  the 
first  time  how  much  learning  is  necessary  to  describe  a ‘ hop  ’ prop- 
erly. The  reader  is  informed  that  all  the  people  at  the  dance 
belong  to  the  beau  monde,  as  may  be  seen  at  a,  coup  d’ceil ; the  demi- 
monde is  scrupulously  excluded,  and  in  fact  every  thing  about  it 
bespeaks  the  haul  Ion  of  the  whole  affair.  A lady  who  has  been 
happy  in  her  hair-dresser  is  said  to  be  coiffee  a ravir.  Then  there 
is  the  bold  man  to  describe.  Having  acquired  the  savoir  faire,  he 
is  never  afraid  of  making  a faux  pas,  but  no  matter  what  kind  of 
conversation  is  started  plunges  at  once  in  medias  res.  Following 
him  is  the  fair  debutante,  who  is  already  on  the  look-out  for  un  bon 
parti,  but  whose  nez  retrousse  is  a decided  obstacle  to  her  success. 
She  is  of  course  accompanied  by  mamma  en  grande  toilette,  wdio, 
entre  nous,  looks  rather  ride'e  even  in  the  gaslight.  Then,  lest  the 
writer  should  seem  frivolous,  he  suddenly  abandons  the  description 
of  the  dances,  vis-a-vis  and  dos-a-dos,  to  tell  us  that  Homer  becomes 
tiresome  when  he  sings  of  BocoTrtr  noma  "upr]  twice  in  a page.  The 
supper  calls  forth  a corresponding  amount  of  learning,  and  the 
writer  concludes  his  article  after  having  aired  his  Greek,  his  Latin, 
his  French,  and,  in  a subordinate  way,  his  English.”  ^ 

1 The  Leeds  Mercury;  quoted  hy  Dean  .\lford:  The  Queen’s  Lng!ish. 


24 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  L 


sectiojST  in. 

New  Formations. 

Great  latitude  is  allowed  in  the  formation  of  new 
words  from  words  in  present  use,  since  it  is  by  such 
changes  that  a language  grows. 

'\niatevei-  the  objections  to  the  noun  moh,  so  long  as  the  question 
was  an  open  one,  they  had,  after  the  noun  was  established,  little 
force  against  its  derivatives.  If  the  noun  was  useful,  so  were  to 
mob,  mobbish,  mob-law.  So,  too,  after  gas  came  into  general  use,  — 
the  word  with  the  thing,  — it  was  necessary  as  well  as  natural  to 
form  derivatives  like  gaseous  and  gasometer.  Other  instances  are: 
to  coal,  to  sail,  to  steam,  to  experience,  to  progress,  to  supplement,  gifted, 
talented.  Of  these  the  last  five  met,  if  indeed  they  do  not  still  meet, 
great  opposition. 

“ One  verb,  that  has  come  to  us  within  the  last  four  yearn  from 
the  American  mint,  is  ‘ to  interview.’  Nothing  can  better  express 
the  spirit  of  our  age,  ever  craving  to  hear  something  new.  The  verb 
calls  up  before  us  a queer  pair:  on  the  one  side  stands  the  great 
man,  not  at  aU  sorry  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  that  the  rest  of 
mankind  are  to  learn  what  a fine  fellow  he  is ; on  the  other  side 
fussily  hovers  the  pressman,  a Boswell  who  sticks  at  nothing  in  the 
way  of  questioning,  but  who  outdoes  his  Scotch  model  in  being 
wholly  unshackled  by  any  weak  feeling  of  veneration.”  ^ 

Whatever  the  need  of  to  intervieio,  there  is  nothing  to  be  said 

in  favor  of  many  vulgar  substitutes  for  expressions  in 
Vulgarisms.  , . 

good  use.  As : — 

“ He  availed  of,”  instead  of  “ availed  himself  of  ” an  opportunity; 
“how  does  he  like?”  for  “like  it?”  “how  do  you  like?”  for 
“like  them?”  a steal  for  “a  theft;”  “Lord  Salisbury’s  wander 
through  Europe;”^  “the  case  was  refereed ^ “he  deeded  me 
the  land;”  “the  skatorial  phenomenon ^ “Speaker  Randall’s 
retiracy;”^  “clothes  laundered  at  short  notice;”  walkist,^  agri- 
culturalist,^ educationalist,^  speculatist,  and  the  like;  “B sui- 


1 Oliphant : Standard  English,  p.  332. 

2 The  [London]  Spectator. 


3 American  newspapers. 


ClIAP.  III.] 


BAEBAKISMS. 


25 


cided  yesterday;”^  “the  house  was  burglarized ^ “since  the 
issuance  (for  “ issue  ”)  of  the  President’s  order; “the  confer- 
mentoi  adegree;”!  “ his  letter  of  cablegram;'^  repor- 

torial;'^  managerial conjiiction^  (for  “conflict”) ; in  course  (for  “ of 
course  ”) ; tasty  (for  “tasteful  ”) ; “he  was  fatigued  by  the  difficult 

climb “L was  extradited dispeace informational ; to 

juxtapose. 

Firstly,^  illy,*^  are  used  for  first,  ill,  in  apparent  ignorance  of  the 
fact  that,  being  adverbs  ah'eady,  they  do  not  requh-e  the  adverbial 
termination  in  ly.  “ On  yesterday,”  ^ “ come  around  ” (for  “ come 
round,”  in  the  sense  of  “ revive  ” or  “ recover,”),  are  similar  errors. 

Not  only  should  the  need  for  a new  form  be  evident, 
but  it  should  be  supplied  in  a manner  conformable  to 
the  genius  of  the  language,  and  with  special  reference 
to  the  principles  of  analogy  and  of  euphony. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  these  conditions  are  ful- 
filled by  the  humor  of  spelling  and  pronouncing  proper 
names  of  foreign  extraction  in  accordance 
with  what  is,  or  is  believed  to  be,  the  foreign  fashions  in 
fashion.  The  new  form  is  not  needed,  since 
the  old  one  is  familiar ; it  pleases  ears  accustomed  to 
other  than  English  words  ; and  it  suits  the  analogy,  not 
of  English,  but  of  some  other  language. 

“ I have  changed  Dr.  Ilawtrey’s  ‘ Kastor,’  ‘ Lakedaimon,’  back 
to  the  familiar  ‘ Castor,’  ‘ Lacedaemon,’  in  obedience  to  my  own 
rule  that  every  thing  odd  is  to  be  avoided  in  rendering  Homer,  the 
most  natural  and  least  odd  of  poets.  I see  Mr.  Newman’s  critic 
in  the  ‘ National  Review  ’ urges  our  generation  to  bear  with  the  un- 
natui'al  effect  of  these  rewritten  Greek  names,  in  the  hope  that  by 
this  means  the  effect  of  them  may  have  to  the  next  generation  be- 
come natural.  For  my  part,  I feel  no  disposition  to  pass  all  my  own 
life  in  the  wilderness  of  pedantry,  in  order  that  a posterity  which  I 
shall  never  see  may  one  day  enter  an  orthogi’aphical  Canaan.  And, 
after  all,  the  real  question  is  this:  whether  our  living  ajiprehension 

’ American  newspapers. 

® College  students.  The  (London)  Spectator  (1878). 

® Prof.  W.  S.  Jevons,  in  The  Fortnightly  Review. 

Bartlett:  Dictionary  of  Americanisms. 


26 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


of  the  Greek  world  is  more  checked  by  meeting,  iir  an  English 
book  about  the  Greeks,  names  not  spelt  letter  for  letter  as  in  the 
original  Greek,  or  by  meeting  names  which  make  us  rub  our  eyes 
and  call  out,  ‘ IIow  exceedingly  odd  1 ’ ” ^ 

There  might  be  less  objection  to  a change  in  the  di- 
rection proposed,  if  it  were  rigidly  carried  out  with  all 
proper  names  of  foreign  origin,  if  it  were  founded  upon 
any  intelligible  principle,  or  if  the  practice  of  its  advo- 
cates were  uniform. 

One  of  these  would-be  reformers,  for  example,  writes  Thucydides,^ 
Miltiades,  Ilerodotos,  in  one  book;®  Thucydides,  Miltiades,  Herodo- 
tus, in  another  book.®  We  find  also  Mykene,  Arkadia,  Korkyra, 
Sophokles,  Xerxes,  Pyrrhos,  Nizza,  Marseille,  Elsass,  in  the  same 
book  ^ with  Thebes,  Corinth,  Cyprus,  ^schylus,  Alexander,  Crcesus, 
Venice,  Lyons,  Lorraine.  In  one  of  two  histories  published  under 
his  name  in  the  same  year,  Mr.  E.  A.  Freeman  writes  of  King 
/Elfred;^  in  the  other,®  of  Emg  Alfred.  The  same  author  writes 
Buonaparte ; but,  like  Macaulay,  he  calls  the  French  Louis  Lewis, 
and,  like  L'ving,  writes  Mahomet  and  Mahometan,  not  Mohammed 
and  Mohammedan.  Yet  the  Ai'abic  prophet’s  name  still  is,  as  it 
has  been  for  centuries,’  a favorite  battle-ground  for  Christians. 
“ Every  man  who  has  travelled  in  the  East  brings  home  a new 
name  for  the  prophet,  and  trims  his  turban  to  his  own  taste.”  ® 
The  latest  style  of  turban  appears  in  the  title  of  a book  published 
in  England  in  1876,  “ A Digest  of  Moohummudan  Law.” 

The  weight  of  argument,  as  well  as  that  of  usage,  is, 
however,  in  favor  of  calling  the  Greek  deities  by  Greek 

’ Matthew  Arnold : Essays  in  Criticism,  p.  346.  See  also  Macaulay : 
Essay  on  Mitford’s  History. 

2 Query  aa  to  the  propriety  of  indicating  ij  and  oi  by  a circumflex  accent, — 
an  accent  used,  whether  in  English  or  in  Greek,  for  an  entirely  different  purpose. 

® E.  A.  Freeman:  General  Sketch  of  History  (edition  of  1876);  History  of 
Europe  (Primer),  same  year. 

4 Freeman  : General  Sketch  of  History. 

6 History  of  The  Norman  Conquest.  ® History  of  Europe  (Primer). 

7 Campbell : Rhetoric,  book  ii.  chap.  iii.  sect.  i.  Failure,  however,  attended 
the  attempt,  in  Dr.  Camphell’s  time,  to  substitute  Confutcee  for  “Confucius,” 
and  Zerdusht  for  “ Zoroaster.” 

8 Landor : Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  244. 


Chap.  IIl.j 


BARBAKISMS. 


27 


names ; but  occasionally  a powerful  voice  is  heard  on 
the  other  side  of  the  question. 

“ The  Latin  names  of  the  Greek  deities  raise  in  most  cases  the 
idea  of  quite  distinct  personages  from  the  personages  whose  idea  is 
raised  by  the  Greek  names.  Hera  and  Juno  are  actually,  to  every 
scholar’s  imagination,  two  different  people.  So  in  all  these  cases 
the  Latin  names  must,  at  any  inconvenience,  be  abandoned  when 
we  are  dealing  with  the  Greek  world.  But  I think  it  can  be  in  the 
sensitive  imagination  of  Mr.  Grote  only,  that  ‘ Thucydides  ’ raises 
the  idea  of  a different  man  from  QovKvblSrjs.”  ^ 

“ I make  no  apology  for  employing  in  my  version  the  names 
Jupiter,  Juno,  Venus,  and  others  of  Latin  origin,  for  Zeus,  Hera, 
Aphrodite,  and  other  Greek  names  of  the  deities  of  whom  Homer 
speaks.  The  names  which  I have  adopted  have  been  naturalized  in 
our  language  for  centuries,  and  some  of  them  — as  Mercury,  Vulcan, 
and  Dian  — have  even  been  provided  with  English  terminations. 
I was  translating  from  Greek  into  English,  and  I therefore  translated 
the  names  of  the  gods,  as  well  as  the  other  parts  of  the  poem.”  * 

Good  use  adopts  some  abbreviated  forms,  hut  brands 
as  barbarisms  many  others. 

Some  of  those  condemned  by  “The  Tatler,’””*  at  the  beginning 
of  the  last  century  are  current  still;  as, — phiz  for  Bad  .abbre- 
“ physiognomy,”  incog  for  ‘‘  incognito,”  poz  for  “ pos-  viations. 
itive,”  hyp  for  “ hypochondria.”  Others,  — rep  for  “ reputation,” 
plenipo  for  “plenipotentiary,”  — have  disappeared;  but  their  places 
have  been  filled  by  hum  for  “ humbug,”  exam  for  “ examination,” 
for  “citizen,”  spec  for  “speculation,”  compo^  for  “composi- 
tion,” confab  for  “ confabulation,”  cute  for  “ acute,”  gent^ior  “ gen- 
tleman,” pan/s  for  “pantaloons”  ("“trousers”  is  far  preferable), 

' Matthew  Arnold : Essays  in  Criticism,  p.  347.  . See  p.  100. 

® Bryant : rrcface  to  his  Translation  of  The  Iliad.  No.  230. 

3 Eastlake : Hints  on  Household  Taste. 

* “The  curt  form  of  gent,  as  a less  ceremonious  substitute  for  the  full  expres- 
sion of  ‘ _£;entleman.’  had  once  made  considerable  way,  but  its  career  was  blighted 
in  a court  of  justice.  It  is  about  twenty  years  ago  that  two  young  men,  being 
brought  before  a London  magistrate,  described  themselves  as  ‘gents.’  The 
magistrate  said  that  he  considered  that  a designation  little  better  than  black- 
guard. The  abbreviated  form  has  never  been  able  to  recover  that  shock.”  — 
The  Philology  of  the  English  Tongue,  by  John  Earle,  p.  341. 

2* 


28 


GEAMMATICAL  PUEITY. 


[Book  I. 


photo  for  “photograph,”  postal  for  “postal  card”  (the  English 
term,  post-card,  is  better). 

On  the  other  hand,  van  from  “ avant,” from  “penulti- 
mate syllable,”  extra,  originally  an  abbreviation  of 
Good  ones,  a g^traordinary,”  but  now  meaning  “additional,”  — 
as  in  “ extra  work  for  extra  pay  ” ^ and  “ a charge  for  extras,'^  — 
consols  from  “ consolidated  annuities,”  wraps  from  “wrappings,” 
chum  from  “ comrade,”  ca&from  “cabriolet,”  /mc^from  “ hackney- 
coach,”  proxy,  proctor,  from  “ procuracy,”  “ procurator,”  have 
established  themselves. 

Some  abbreviations  that  are  frequent  in  verse  are  not 
allowable  in  prose  ; as,  — 

E'er,  ne'er,  o'er,  tho' , thro' , 'mid,  'neath,  oft,  natheless,  'pan,  'twixt, 
e'en,  i',  o'. 

Barbarisms  which  come  under  the  general  head  of 
Words  of  slang  or  cant  — the  spawn  of  a political  con- 
low  origin.  example  — usually  die  a natural 

death ; as,  — 

Up  Salt  Biver,  Loco - foco.  Copperhead,  Barn  - turner,  Emiker,  Soft- 
shell,  Hard-shell,  Adullamite,^  lulldoze,  contraband  (meaning  “ fugitive 
slave  ”),  Doughface,  Boycotting. 

If,  however,  a word  supplies  a permanent  need  in  the 
language,  it  may,  whatever  its  origin,  come  into  good 
use ; as,  — 

Fig  (as  in  “a  fig  for  you”),  hoax,  hunter,  flimsy,  hombast,  bigot, 
caucus,  gerrymander,  cabal.  Whig,  Tory,  Methodist,  Radioed,  clever, 
fun,  snob,  humbug,  buncombe,  slang,  cant,  bluestocking,  to  shunt,  tramp) 
(in  the  sense  of  “ vagrant”). 

It  may  be  said,  and  said  with  truth,  that  the  rules 
thus  far  suggested,  however  firmly  founded  in  reason, 
are  least  useful  where  there  is  room  for  doubt  whether  an 
old  word  has  become  obsolete,  or  whether  a 
Summary.  word  has  established  itself,  — the  very 

cases  in  which  guidance  is  most  needed.  In  such  cases 
prudence  — at  least  for  writers  who  have  yet  their  spurs 

* Herbert  Spencer. 

° See  John  Bright’s  Speeches,  vol.  ii.  p.  144  (Macmillan,  18G8). 


Chap.  III.] 


BARBARISMS. 


29 


to  win  — is  the  better  part  of  valor.  Such  writers  can 
follow  no  better  counsels  than  those  given  by  Ben  Jon- 
son  and  by  Pope : — 

“ Custom  is  the  most  certain  mistress  of  language, 
as  the  public  stamp  makes  the  current  money.  But  we 
must  not  be  too  frequent  with  the  mint,  every  day  coin- 
ing, nor  fetch  words  from  the  extreme  and  utmost  ages ; 
since  the  chief  virtue  of  a style  is  perspicuity,  and  noth- 
ing so  vicious  in  it  as  to  need  an  interpreter.  Words 
borrowed  of  antiquity  do  lend  a kind  of  majesty  to  style, 
and  are  not  without  their  delight  sometimes.  For  they 
have  the  authority  of  years,  and  out  of  their  intermis- 
sion do  win  themselves  a kind  of  grace-like  newness. 
But  the  eldest  of  the  present  and  newness  of  the  past 
language  is  the  best.  For  what  was  the  ancient  lan- 
guage, which  some  men  so  dote  upon,  but  the  ancient 
custom?  Yet  when  I name  custom,  I understand  not 
the  vulgar  custom  ; for  that  were  a precept  no  less  dan- 
gerous to  language  than  life,  if  we  should  speak  or  live 
after  the  manners  of  tlie  vulgar : but  that  I call  cus- 
tom of  speech,  which  is  the  consent  of  the  learned,  as 
custom  of  life,  which  is  the  consent  of  the  good.”  ^ 

“ In  words  as  fashions  the  same  rule  wiU  hold, 

Alike  fantastic  if  too  new  or  old; 

Be  not  the  first  by  whom  the  new  are  tried, 

Nor  yet  the  last  to  lay  the  old  aside.”  ^ 

Even  writers  of  established  reputation  who  unite  tact 
and  discretion  with  genius,  act  in  the  spirit  of  these 
precepts.  Cicero  was  wont  to  introduce  an  unusual 
expression  with  “ so  to  speak  ; ” Macaulay’s  new  words 

1 Ben  Jonson:  Works,  vol.  ix.  p.  220.  Borrowed  from  Quintilian:  Inst. 
Orator,  i.  vi.  i.,  xxxix-xiv. 

2 Pope:  Essay  on  Criticism,  part  ii. 


30 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


can  be  counted  on  the  fingers  ; Matthew  Arnold  apolo- 
gizes for  writing  Renascence  for  “ Renaissance.”  “ I 
have  ventured,”  he  says,^  “ to  give  to  the  foreign  word 
Renaissance  — destined  to  become  of  more  common  use 
amongst  us,  as  the  movement  Avhich  it  denotes  comes, 
as  it  Avill  come,  increasingly  to  interest  us  — an  English 
form.”  2 “I  trade,”  says  Dryden,^  “ both  with  the  living 
and  the  dead,  for  the  enrichment  of  our  native  language. 
We  have  enough  in  England  to  supply  our  necessity, 
but,  if  we  will  have  things  of  magnificence  and  splendor, 
we  must  get  them  by  commerce.  Poetry  requires  orna- 
ment ; and  that  is  not  to  be  had  from  our  old  Teuton 
monosyllables : therefore,  if  I find  any  elegant  word  in 
a classic  author,  I propose  it  to  be  naturalized,  by  using 
it  myself ; and,  if  the  public  approves  of  it,  the  bill  passes. 
But  every  man  cannot  distinguish  between  pedantry  and 
poetry : every  man,  therefore,  is  not  fit  to  innovate.” 

How,  then,  is  a language  to  grow?  How  is  litera- 
ture to  avail  itself  of  the  new  words  it  needs  for  com- 
plete expression  ? The  answer  suggests  itself.  In  the 
art  of  writing,  as  in  every  other  art,  it  is  the  masters, 
and  they  only,  who  give  the  law  and  determine  the 
practice.  The  poets,  the  great  prose  writers,  may  be 
safely  left  to  determine  what  words  are  needed  by  the 
language. 

1 Culture  and  Anarchy,  p.  143. 

* Query  as  to  the  position  of  “an  English  form.”  See  p.  135. 

* Dedication  of  The  iEneis. 


CUAP.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


31 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SOLECISMS.^ 

As  compared  with  iiighly  inflected  languages,  English 
undergoes  few  grammatical  changes  of  form.  Its  syn- 
tax is  easily  mastered,  and  for  that  very  reason  too  often 
neglected.  Expressions  like  the  following  are  heard, 
some  of  them  from  ignorant  persons,  but  some  from  per- 
sons who  ought  to  know  and  who  often  do  know,  if  they 
stop  to  think,  that  they  are  talking  ungrammatically : 

“ You  was;  ” “ there's  the  hoys ; ” “ who  did  you  see?  ” “ I aint  go- 
ing;” ” I/iOinigot  it;  ” “ I’veyoneauddone  it;  ” “ who  ^ . 

done  it?  ” ” between  you  and  7;”  you.  hadn't  ouyht  ° 
to  do  it;  ” “ the  little  Lord  Silverbridge  as  [for  thaQ  was  to  be;  ” ^ 
“ walk  lihe  [for  a.s]  I do;  ” “I  am  very  pleased;  ” “ directly  [for  as 
soon  a,<f]  I get  there;  ” ® “I  have  no  doubt  hut  what  he  will  come;  ” 
” Mr.  A.  jumped  on  to  the  train  ; ” “how  [for  ichat]  did  you  say?  ” 
“ ie  I disagreeable?  ” “ don’t  tell  on  me;  ” “ is  he /o  home; ” “it 
isn't  so,  I don’i  think;  ” “ try  and  [for  io]  think;”  “those  kind;" 
“it  is  me;"*  “it  is  her;"  “I  have  went;"  “whatever  did  you 
say?  ” “ I don’t  remember  of  having  heard  it;  ” “ people  talk  that 
times  are  hard ;”  “ he  do'nP  like  it “ I’m  going  in,  town.” 

In  conversation,  indeed,  slight  inaccuracies  may  be 
pardoned  for  the  sake  of  colloquial  ease,  and  in  ora- 
tory, fire  tells  for  more  than  correctness  ; but  a writer  is 
[)resumed  to  have  whatever  time  he  needs  to  make  his 

' For  definition,  see  p.  19. 

2 Anthony  Trollope : Phincas  Finn,  vol.  ii.  chap.  lx. 

3 In  England  there  is  some  good  authority  for  this  expression,  but  in  the 
United  States  there  is  none. 

''  Some  English  grammarians  (Dr.  Latham  and  Dean  Alford,  for  example) 
defend  this  form;  but  the  weight  of  good  usage  is  decidedly  against  it. 

6 <i\Vhy  Eido  do'nt  like  Candy”  is  the  title  of  a book  recently  published. 


32 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


sentences  grammatical,  and  his  readers  have  a stronger 
disposition,  as  well  as  greater  opportunities,  to  notice  his 
errors,  than  a listener  has  to  notice  those  of  a speaker. 
Hence,  the  grosser  faults  of  common  speech  are  avoided 
in  print ; but  even  good  authors  fall  into  offences  against 
grammar,  — a fact  which  constitutes  a special  reason 
Avhy  such  offences  should  be  pointed  out. 

I.  Some  nouns,  especially  those  of  foreign  origin,  are 
Errors  in  the  uscd  in  the  plural  instead  of  the  singular,  or 
and  plural,  in  tlic  Singular  instead  ot  the  plural. 

Thus,  one  newspaper  speaks  of  “ an  enfeebled  stamina ; ” another 
says,  “the  vertehrm  was  dislocated;”  another,  “there  is  an  ad- 
denda;^’ ^ another,  “this  was  a remarkable p/ienomena ; ” another, 
“the  tableaux  was  beautiful.”  We  read  of  “a  strata”  “a  ter- 
mini," “ a memoi'anda,"  “ an  errata."  The  elder  Disraeli  says,  in  one 
place,  “The  Roman  Saturnalia  were;"  in  another,  “Such  was  the 
Roman  Saturnalia."'^  “The  minutim"  and  “the  minutia"  (as  a 
plural),  on  the  other  hand,  are  sometimes  seen. 

Cherub  may  form  its  plural  either  after  the  Hebrew,  as  cherubim, 
or  according  to  the  English  idiom,  as  cherubs;  but  it  is  equally 
incorrect  to  speak  of  a cherubim,^  and  of  “two  little  cherubims.”  * 
A similar  fault  is  committed  by  Addison:  “The  zeal  of  the  ser- 
aphim [Abdiel]  breaks  forth  in  a becoming  warmth  of  sentiments 
and  expressions,  as  the  character  which  is  given  us  of  him  denotes 
that  generous  scorn  and  intrepidity  which  attend  heroic  virtue.”  ^ 

II.  A common  error  is  in  the  use  of  a pronoun  that 
differs  in  number  from  its  antecedent. 

“ She  studied  his  countenance  like  an  inscription,  and  deciphered 
each  rapt  expression  that  crossed  it,  and  stored  them  in  her  memory.  ’ ’ ® 

1 The  Pall  Mall  Gazette.  A speaker  in  the  House  of  Representatives,  1877, 
said  that  “The  Electoral  Commission  had  made  the  two  Houses  of  Congress  a 
mere  addenda  to  a conspii'acy.” 

2 Quoted  in  Modem  English  Literature:  Its  Blemishes  and  Defects;  by 
Henry  H.  Breen. 

= Tlie  Tempest,  act  i.  scene  ii.  Thus  modern  editions  : the  folio  of 
1C33  has  cheriibin. 

* George  Eliot : Amos  Barton,  chap.  i.  ‘ The  Spectator,  No.  337. 

‘ Charles  Reade ; Very  Hard  Cash,  chap.  iii. 


Chap,  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


33 


“ Both  sisters  were  uncomfortable  enough.  Each  felt  for  the 
other,  and,  of  course,  for  themselves ; and  their  mother 
talked  on  of  her  dislike  of  Mr.  Darcy,  and  her  resolu-  nouns, 
tion  to  be  civil  to  him  only  i as  Mr.  Bingley’s  friend,  without  being 
heard  by  either  of  them.”  ^ 

“ . . . made  her  one  of  the  clumsiest  lows  that  was  ever  performed 
by  a mortal.”^ 

“ Each  of  the  ladies,  like  two  excellent  actresses,  tvere  perfect  in 
their  parts.”  ^ 

“ The  parliament  was  assembled ; and  the  king  made  them  a plausi- 
ble speech.  ” ^ 

“It  is  a place  where  nobody,  except  butchers’  boys,  enjoys  per- 
fect health,  — the  full  state  of  health  that  they  are  capable  of 
enjoying.”  ® 

III.  Akin  to  this  fault  is  the  use  of  a singular  noun 
or  pronoun  with  a plural  verb,  or  vice  versa. 

“ That  man,  also,  would  be  of  considerable  use,  though  not  in  the 
same  degree,  who  should  vigilantly  attend  to  every 
illegal  practice  that  were  beginning  to  prevail,  and 
evince  its  danger  by  exposing  its  contrariety  to  law.”  ’’ 

“If  Mr.  Darwin  and  Mr.  Wallace  both  hesitate  to  claim  the 
greater  honor  in  the  discovery,  it  is  to  the  outside  reviewer  a mat- 
ter of  absolute  impossibility  to  determine  icho  of  these  two  natural- 
ists have  labored  the  harder  or  the  more  honestly,  and  is  the  more 
free  from  points  of  attack.  ” ® 

“ One  economist  after  another  — Thornton,  Cairnes,  Leslie,  Mac- 
leod,  Lange,  Ilearne,  Musgrave  — have  protested  against  some  one 
or  other  of  the  articles  of  the  old  Ricardian  creed.”  ® 

“ The  numerous  elaborate  hills  which  each  government  of  Eng- 

1 Query  as  to  the  position  of  “only.”  See  p.  133. 

2 Miss  Austen:  Pride  and  Prejudice,  chap.  xx.  Query  as  to  the  position  of 
the  last  clause.  See  p.  140. 

* Thackeray : Vanity  Fair,  chap.  v.  See  also  p.  C7, 

^ Scott:  Waverley,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xvi. 

5 Hume  : History  of  England,  vol.  vi.  chap.  Ixvi.  See  pp.  34,  35. 

8 Helps:  Social  Pressure,  chap.  ii. 

t Campbell : Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  book  ii.  chap.  ii. 

8 The  [London]  Spectator.  (187G.) 

* Prof.  Jevons,  in  The  Fortnightly  Review. 


34 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


land  has  in  late  years  attempted  to  pass,  bnt  generally  -without 
success,  is  the  best  indication  of  the  needs  felt.”  * 

“ Many  was  the  consultation  which  he  and  his  neighbors . . . had.”  • 

“ Such  extreme  principles  drove  all  the  holders  of  property  into 
tlie  other  side,  and  filled  the  ranks  of  the  National  Guards,  wherever 
it  was  composed  of  others  than  proletaires,  with  sturdy  and  zealous 
defenders  of  order.  ’ ’ ® 

“No  nation  but  ourselves  liaep.  equally  succeeded  in  both  forms  of 
the  higher  poetry,  epic  and  tragic.”  ^ 

“ Neither  laio  nor  opinion  superadd  artificial  obstacles  to  the 
natural  ones.”® 

“ All  that  is  seen,  — the  world,  the  Bible,  the  Chm’ch,  the  civil 
polity,  and  man  himself,  — are  types,”  &c.® 

“ A harmless  substitute  for  the  sacred  music  which  his  instru- 
ment or  skill  were  unable  to  achieve.”  ’ 

“ Neither  the  carriage  nor  the  Uve7'y  of  the  servant  who  preceded 
it  u'ere  familiar  to  them.”  ® 

“ is  a different  set  of  men  who  suggest  things,  from  those  who 
carry  them  into  effect.”  ® 

When,  ho-wever,  the  subject  though  plural  in  form  is 
singular  in  sense,  the  verb  should  be  singular ; when 
the  subject  though  singular  in  form  is  plural  in  sense, 
the  verb  should  be  plural. 

Under  this  rule  the  following  are  right : — 

“ Positive does  not  concern  itself  with  history.” 

“ The  news  is  entirely  satisfactory.” 

‘ ‘ It  seemed  that  to  waylay  and  murder  the  King  and  his  brother 
teas  the  shortest  and  surest  way.  ’ ’ 

’ Prof.  Jevons,  in  The  Fortnightly  Review. 

2 E.  H.  Hutton : Sir  Walter  Scott,  chap.  xii.  (English  Men  of  Letters). 

3 Alison:  History  of  Europe  from  the  Fall  of  Napoleon,  chap.  xxx. 

•*  Thomas  De  Quincey : Essay  on  Style. 

5 J.  S.  Mill:  The  Subjection  of  Women,  p.  240. 

* J.  H.  Newman:  Essays,  Critical  and  Historical,  vol.  ii.  p.  193. 

7 Scott:  Waverley,  vol.  i.  chap,  xxxiv. 

8 Miss  Austen : Pride  and  Prejudice,  chap,  xxiii. 

8 Helps : Social  Pressure,  chap.  xxii.  p.  327.  See  also  p.  67. 

1“  Sir  George  C.  Lewis:  Observation  and  Reasoning  in  Politics,  chap.  xxiv. 
sect.  xiv.  Macaulay : History  of  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  ii. 


CUAP.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


35 


“ It  never  was  any  part  of  our  creed  that  the  great  right  and 
blessedness  of  an  Irishman  is  to  do  as  he  likes.”  ^ 

“ The  gold  and  silver  collected  at  the  land  offices  is  sent  to  the 
deposit  banks;  it  is  there  placed  to  the  credit  of  the  government.”  ^ 
‘ ‘ In  early  times,  the  great  majority  of  the  male  sex  were  ® slaves.  ’ ’ * 
“ The  numerical  majority  is  not  always  to  be  ascertained  with 
certainty.”  ® 

“ The  populace  were  now  melted  into  tears.”  ® 

^'■Mankind  have  always  wandered  or  settled,  agreed  or  quarrelled, 
in  troops  or  companies.”  ’ 

“ The  Claudian  family  ivas  long  noted  for  its  arrogant  de- 
meanor.” ® • 

“ Houses,  not  ‘ housen,’  is  the  correct  plural.” 

IV.  Sometimes  a pronoun  or  an  adjective  is  made  to 
refer  to  a word  which  does  not  appear  in  the 
sentence  at  all,  or  appears  either  as  a s}dlable 
in  some  other  word,  or  as  a word  in  an  obscui’e  part  of 
the  sentence. 

“ She  had  not  yet  listened  patiently  to  his  /iear/-beats,  but  only 
felt  that  her  own  was  beating  violently.”  ® 

‘ ‘ To-morrow  is  Hospital  Sunday,  and  we  trust  that  it  may  re- 
sult in  a liberal  subscription  for  those  most  useful  of  London 
charities.” 

“ The  first  project  was  to  shorten  discourse  by  cutting  polysyZta- 
hles  into  one." 

1 Matthew  Arnold : Culture  and  Anarchy,  chap.  ii. 

2 Daniel  Webster:  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  378. 

3 A collective  noun  is  singular  in  sense  and  therefore  goes  with  a singular 
verb  when  the  collection  is  spoken  of;  it  is  plural  and  goes  with  a plural  verb 
when  the  individual  persons  or  things  of  the  collection  are  spoken  of. 

4 Mill : The  Subjection  of  Women. 

® Ilallam  : Constitutional  History. 

6 Ilume:  History  of  England,  vol.  vi.  chap.  Ixviii.  , 

7 Ferguson  : Essay  on  the  History  of  Civil  Society,  sect.  iii. 

8 Lewis : Obser\-ation  and  Reasoning  in  Politics,  chap.  xvi.  sect,  v 
® George  Eliot : Middlemarch,  book  ii.  chap.  xxx. 

II'  The  [London]  Spectator.  (187G.) 
u Swift:  Gulliver’s  Travels;  Voyage  to  Laputa. 


36 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


‘ ‘ Luckily,  however,  they  [elephants]  did  not  keep  straight  below 
me,  but  a little  on  one  side;  and  one  huge  animal,  which,  as  I could 
not  see  those  appendages,  was  probably  a luskless  cow,  came  and  stood 
within  ten  yards  of  me.”  ^ 

“ He  will  know  more  clearly  and  thoroughly  than  ever  he  knew 
before  that  English  policy,  so  far  as  it  is  pro-Tm'kish,  is  policy  in 
which  she  stands  alone.”  ^ 

“ These  [Ovid,  Cicero,  and  Pliny]  are  the  three  Romans,  — the 
least  amiable  of  nations,  and  (one  excepted)  the  least  sincere,  — 
with  whom  I should  have  liked  best  to  spend  an  evening.”  ® 

“ As  a text-book,  the  volume  has  one  technical  defect,  — the 
lines  ought  to  have  been  numbered  either  as  in  the  other  volumes 
or  on  each  page,  /is  absence  is  a source  of  annoyance.”  ^ 

“It  is  a painful  discovery  we  make,  as  we  advance  in  life,  that 
even  those  we  most  love  are  not  exempt  from  its  frailties.”  ® 

V.  Writers  sometimes  omit  an  essential  part  of  a 
verb  from  a sentence  which  provides  no  grammatical 
means  to  supply  the  omission. 

“ He  knows  better  than  withhold  information.”  ® 

“ . . . the  good  which  mankind  always  have  sought  and  always 
will.”’’ 

“ I shall  do  all  I can  to  persuade  all  others  to  take  the  same 
measures  for  their  cure  which  I have.  ’ ’ ® 

“ This  dedication  may  serve  for  almost  any  book  that  has,  is,®  or 
shall  be  published.  ’ ’ i® 

“ I have  made  no  alteration  or  addition  to  it,  nor  shall  I 
ever.” 

“ I had  no  cause  to  feel  humiliated  at  my  rejection  by  the  elec- 
tors ; and  if  I had,  the  feeling  would  have  been  far  outweighed  by 
the  numerous  expressions  of  regret  which  I received.” 

1 W.  II.  Ponsonby:  Large  Animals  in  Africa.  (1875.) 

2 The  [London]  Spectator.  (1876.)  3 Landor:  Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  37. 

^ American  newspaper.  ® Cooper : The  Spy,  chap.  iv. 

fi  Charles  Reade : Very  Hard  Cash,  chap,  xxxiii. 

t W.  E.  Gladstone,  in  The  Quarterly  Review. 

8 Steele:  The  Guardian,  No.  1.  9 Is  this  word  needed? 

Cited  in  Campbell’s  Rhetoric. 

11  Mill:  Autobiography,  chap.  vii. 


Chap.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


37 


VI.  Sometimes  words  necessary  to  complete  the 
sense  are  omitted. 

“ lie  lamented  the  fatal  mistake  the  'world  had  been  so  long  in 
using  silk-worms.”  ^ 

“The  discoursing  on  politics  shah,  be  looked  upon  as^  dull  as 
talking' on  the  weather.”  ^ 

“ His  letters  recommenced,  as  frequent  and  rather  more  serious 
and  business-like  than  of  old.”"* 

“ He  then  addressed  to  his  troops  a few  woi'ds  of  encouragement, 
as  customary  with  him  on  the  eve  of  an  engagement.”  ® 

“ The  King  took  the  money  of  France,  to  assi.st  him  in  the  enter- 
prise w'hich  he  meditated  against  the  liberty  of  his  subjects,  with 
as  little  scruple  as  Frederick  of  Prussia  or  Alexander  of  Russia 
accepted  our  subsidies  in  a time  of  war.”® 

“ It  is  asked  in  what  sense  I use  these  words.  I answer:  in  the 
same  sense  as  the  terms  are  employed  when  w'e  refer  to  Euclid  for 
the  elements  of  the  science  of  geometry,”  &c.’ 

“ The  sophist  proper  of  this  time  made  no  pretence  of  undertaking 
to  improve  men,  but  only  to  please,  and,  if  possible,  to  astonish  them, 
with  the  feats  as  of  an  intellectual  acrobat.”  ® 

“ No  person  held  to  Seiwice  or  Labor  in  one  State,  under  the  Laws 
thereof,  escaping  into  another,  shall,  in  consequence  of  any  Law  or 
Regulation  therein,  be  discharged  from  such  Service  or  Labor,  hut 
shall  be  delivered  up,  upon  claim  of  the  Party  to  whom  such  Ser- 
vice or  Labor  may  be  due.”  ® 

“ He  seemed  rather  to  aim  at  gaining  the  doubtful,  than  morti- 
fying or  crushing  the  hostile.” 

1 Swift:  Gulliver’s  Travels;  Voyage  to  Laputa. 

2 The  insertion  in  the  first  example  of  another  in,  and  in  the  second  of 
another  as,  would  be  intolerable;  but  we  can  say  “had  so  long  made,”  and 
“equally  dull  with.” 

® The  Freeholder,  No.  38. 

“*  G.  Otto  Trevelyan:  Life  and  Letters  of  Lord  Macaulay,  vol.  i.  p.  293. 

® Prescott : Conquest  of  Mexico,  book  v.  chap.  iv. 

8 Macaulay:  Essay  on  Ilallam’s  Constitutional  History. 

' Coleridge : Church  and  State ; quoted  in  Hall’s  Modern  English. 

8 Archbishop  Trench  : Plutarch,  lect.  iii.  Query  also  as  to  the  last  clause. 

8 The  Constitution  of  the  United  States. 

18  Lord  Dalling:  Life  of  Sir  P.obert  Peel,  part  iv.  See  also  p.  105. 


38 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


‘ ‘ The  three  Villiers  and  Romilly  stuck  to  us  for  some  time  longer, 
but  the  patience  of  all  the  founders  of  the  Society  was  at  last  ex- 
hausted, except  7ne^  and  Roebuck.”  ^ 

“ The  remarkable  beauty  of  the  animal  so  attracted  Coningsby’s 
attention  that  it  prevented  Mm  catching  even  a glimpse  of  the 
rider.”  s 

VII.  Sometimes  a word  has  no  grammatical  connec- 
tion with  the  rest  of  the  sentence. 

“ The  propertij  which  every  man  has  in  his  own  labor,  as  it  is  the 
original  foundation  of  all  other  property,  so  it  is  the  most  sacred 
and  inviolable.”  ^ 

“ This  was  the  most  metaphorical  speech  which  Thomas  of  Gils- 
land  was  ever  known  to  utter,  the  rather,  perhaps  (as  will  some- 
times happen),  that  it  did  not  entirely  express  his  own  sentiments, 
being  somewhat  a lover  of  good  cheer  and  splendid  accommoda- 
tion.” ® 

VIII.  Mistakes  are  often  made  from  neglect  of  the 

wron<T  principle  that  the  time  of  the  action  recorded 

tenses.  subordinate  part  of  the  sentence  is  not 

absolute,  but  relative  to  the  time  of  the  principal  clause ; 
and  that,  therefore,  the  tense  of  a dependent  verb  is 
determined  by  its  relation  to  the  verb  on  which  it  de- 
pends. 

“I  expected  to  have  found  him,”  “I  meant  to  have  written,”  should 
be,  “ I expected  to  find  him,”  “I  meant  to  write;”  for  the  finding 
must  be  posterior  to  the  expectation,  the  writing  to  the  intention 
to  write. 

Instances  of  errors  under  this  rule  are : — 

“ To  have  prevented  their  depreciation,  the  proper  course,  it  is 
affirmed,  would  have  been  to  have  made  a valuation  of  all  the  con- 
fiscated property.”  ® 

1 Is  there  a fault  of  arrangement  here  ? 2 jpn , Autobiography,  p.  128. 

3 Disraeli : Coningsby,  book  iii.  chap.  i.  See  also  p.  101. 

4 Adam  Smith : Wealth  of  Nations,  book  i.  part  ii.  chap.  x. 

5 Scott : The  Talisman,  chap.  vii. 

6 Mill : Political  Economy,  book  iii.  chap.  xiii.  sect.  iii. 


Chap.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


39 


“ The  Pi-iiice  was  apprehensive  that  Waverley,  if  set  at  liberty, 
might  have  resumed  his  purpose  of  returning  to  England.”  ^ 

“ Antithesis,  therefore,  may  on  many  occasions  be  employed 
to  advantage,  in  order  to  strengthen  the  impression  which  we 
intend  that  any  object  should  make.”^ 

” If  a change  of  administration  is  produced  by  the  first  move- 
ments of  the  House  of  Commons,  as  I think  it  probably  will,®  and 
I refuse  to  take  office,  — or  if,  having  been  present  at  first,  I went 
away,  — the  attack  upon  me  w’ould  be  just  the  same.”  * 

‘ ‘ And  the  persons  who,  at  one  period  of  their  life,®  might  take  chief 
pleasure  in  such  narrations,  at  another  mag  he  bi'ought  into  a tem- 
per of  high  tone  and  acute  sensibility.”  ® 

A general  proposition,  however,  into  Avliich  the  notion 
of  time  does  not  enter,  should  usually  he  in  the  pres- 
ent tense,  Avhatever  the  tense  of  the  verb  on  which  it 
depends.  The  following  is,  therefore,  Avrong  : — 

“ It  is  confidently  reported  that  two  young  gentlemen  . . . liaA'e 
made  a discovery  that  there  was  no  God.” 

IX.  A person  Avho  has  not  been  trained  to  make  the 
proper  distinctions  between  will  and  shall,  ^yma^xvx 
would  and  should,  never  can  be  sure  of  using 
them  correctly ; but  he  Avill  make  fcAV  mistakes  if  he 
fixes  firmly  in  his  mind  that  I shall,  you  will,  he  xvill,  are 
the  forms  of  the  future,  and  that  I will,  you  shall,  he  shall, 
imply  Abolition  on  the  part  of  the  speaker.® 

The  remark  attributed  to  a foreigner,  “ I will  be  drowned ; no- 
body shall  help  me,”  is  a good  example  (whether  real  or  invented) 
of  the  misuse  of  the  italicized  words. 

“We  will  be  smothered  together” — the  reported  cry  of  an  affec- 
tionate Avife  at  a recent  fire  in  a Western  city  — is  ungrammatical, 

' Scott : AVaverley,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xxix. 

’ Blair : Rhetoric,  lect.  xvii.  3 See  p.  36. 

® Earl  Spencer,  in  a letter  to  Lord  Holland:  Life  of  Lord  Althorp,  p.  536. 

* Query  as  to  “ their  life.” 

® Ruskin : Modern  Painters,  vol.  iv.  part  v.  chap.  xix.  See  also  p.  102. 

''  Swift : An  Argument  against  Abolishing  Christianity. 

• Sec  ShaUsperc’s  Coriolanus,  act  hi.  scene  i. 


40 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


unless  it  be  supposed  that  the  speaker  wished  to  be  smothered 
with  her  husband. 

In  the  following  sentences,  the  auxiliaries  are  correctly  distin- 
guished : — 

“ I shall  supply  you  with  money  now,  and  I loill  furnish  you  with 
a reasonable  sum  from  time  to  time,  on  your  application  to  me  by 
letter.”  ^ 

“If,  indeed,  the  persecuted  sects  in  Russia  were  driven  into 
rebellion,  ...  a large  share  of  the  responsibility  would  be  ours, 
and  we  should  be  guilty  of  an  unjust  and  immoral  act.”  ^ 

The  following  are  instances  of  incorrect  usage : — 

“ But  I think  w’e  will  beat  them  all.”  ® 

“I  would  not  have  wanted  help,  if  the  place  had  not  been 
destroyed.”  * 

“ I would  be  false,  if  I did  not  say,”  &c.® 

“ I think  w'e  will  have  a thunder  shower.” 

“ Often  a young  man  does  not  go  to  college,  because  he  is  afraid 
that  he  will  be  raised  above  his  business.” 

“ As  long  as  they  continue  to  shun  such  a life,  so  long  will  we 
continue  to  have  corruption  and  miseiy.” 

“ Let  the  educated  men  consent  to  hold  office,  and  we  will  find 
that  in  a few  years  there  will  be  a great  change  in  politics.” 

“Now,  I would  have  thought  that  these  were  just  the  people 
who  should  have  been  the  most  welcome.”® 

“ Shall  the  material  universe  be  destroyed  ? 

The  following  admirable  statement  and  illustration  of 
the  true  distinction  between  these  auxiliaries  is  from 
Sir  E.  W.  Head’s  little  work  on  “ Shall  and  Will”  : — 

“ Will  in  the  first  person  expresses  (a)  a resolution  or  (b)  a 'pi'om.ise. 

(a)  ‘ I will  not  go  ’ — It  is  my  resolution  not  to  go. 

(b)  ‘ I will  give  it  you  ’ = I promise  to  give  it  you. 

Will  in  the  second  pevsorLforetells : ‘ If  you  come  at  twelve  o’clock, 
you  will  find  me  at  home.’  ® 

* George  Eliot ; Middlemarch,  book  vii.  chap.  Ixviii. 

^ The  Duke  of  Argyll,  in  The  Contemporary  Review. 

® George  Ticknor:  Life;  Letter  to  Lyell,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xi.  (1843.) 

® A recent  novel  of  Irish  life.  ® A recent  English  novel. 

® A recent  novel  of  New  York  life. 

’ Discussed  by  a Scotch  debating  society.  Dean  Alford  : The  Queen’s  Eng- 
Ush,  § 328. 


Chap.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


41 


Will  in  the  second  person,  in  questions,  anticipates  (a)  a wish,  or 
(li)  an  intention. 

(a)  (I/)  ‘ Will  you  go  to-morrow?  ’ = Is  it  your  wish  or  intention 
to  go  to-morrow  ? 

Will  in  the  third  person  foretells,  genei’ally  implying  an  intention 
at  the  same  time,  when  the  nominative  is  a rational  creature. 

‘ lie  will  come  lo-morrow,’  signifies  (a)  what  is  to  take  place,  and 
(6)  that  it  is  the  intention  of  the  person  mentioned  to  coine.^ 

‘ I think  it  will  snow  to-day,’  intimates  what  is,  probably,  to  take 
place. 

Will  must  never  be  used  in  questions  with  nominative  cases  of 
the  first  person : 

‘ Will  we  come  to-morrow?  ’ = Is  it  our  intention  or  desire  to  come 
to-morrow?  which  is  an  absurd  question. 

Would  is  subject  to  the  same  rules  as  will. 

Would  followed  by  that  is  frequently  used  (the  nominative  being 
expressed  or  understood)  to  express  a icish; 

‘ Would  that  he  had  died  before  this  disgrace  befell  him’  = 1 
wish  that  he  had  died  before  this  disgrace  befell  Mm. 

Would  have,  followed  by  an  infinitive,  signifies  a desire  to  do  or 
make  : 

‘ I icould  have  you  think  of  these  things  ’ = I wish  to  make  you 
think  of  these  things. 

Would  is  often  used  to  express  a custom ; 

‘ He  would  often  talk  about  these  things  ’ = It  was  his  custom  to 
talk  of  these  things. 

Shall  in  the  first  person  foretells,  simply  expressing  ivhat  is  to 
take  place : 

‘ I shall  go  to-morrow.’  Ohs.  No  intention  or  desire  is  expre.ssed 
by  shall. 

Shall  in  the  first  person,  in  questions,  asks  permission: 

‘ Shall  I read?  ’ = Do  you  ivish  me,  or  will  you  permit  me,  to  read? 

Shall  in  the  second  and  third  persons  expresses  (a)  a promise, 
{h)  a command,  or  (c)  a threat: 

(a)  ‘ You  shall  have  these  books  to-morrow  ’ = I promise  to  let 
you  have  these  books  to-morrow. 

(J>)  ‘ Thou  shall  not  steal  ’ = / command  thee  not  to  steal. 

(r?)  (c)  ‘ lie  shall  be  punished  for  this  ’ = / threaten  or  promise 
to  punish  him  for  this  offence. 

‘ So  too  : "You  will  come  to-morrqw.” 


42 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


IBook  L 


Should  is  subject  to  the  same  rules  as  shall. 

Should  frequently  expresses  duty: 

‘ You  should  not  do  so  ’ = It  is  your  duty  not  to  do  so. 

Should  often  signifies  a plan : 

‘ I should  not  do  so  ’ = It  loould  not  be  my  plan  to  do  so. 

Should  often  expresses  a supposition  : 

‘ Should  they  not  agree  to  the  proposals,  what  must  I do  ’ = 
Suppose  that  it  happen  that  they  will  not  agree  to  the  proposals.” 

X.  A participle  slionld  refer  grammatically  to  the 
Incorrect  use  to  wliich  it  refers  in  sense.  It  is  mis- 

of participles,  -v^’Pen  made  to  refer  to  a noun  which 
is  either  not  in  the  sentence  at  all,  or  is  in  it  in  an 
obscure  position. 

“ Approaching'^  nearer  and  nearer  yet,  this  halo  began  to  fade, 
and  the  causes  which  produced  it  slowly  to  develop  themselves.”  * 

“ The  dispatch  contained  a proposition  to  Mr.  Phoebus  to  repair  to 
the  court  of  St.  Petersburg,  and  accept  appointments  of  high  distinc- 
tion and  emolument.  ^Vithout  in  anyway  restricting  the  independ- 
ent pursuit  of  his  profession,  he  was  offered  a large  salary.”  ® 

“ Foreseeing  from  the  first  this  double  set  of  consequences  from 
the  success  or  failure  of  the  Rebellion,  it  may  be  imagined  with 
what  feelings  I contemplated  the  rush  of  nearly  the  whole  upper 
and  middle  classes  of  my  own  countiy,  even  those  who  passed  for 
Liberals,  into  a furious  pro-Southern  partisanship.”  ^ 

“ Thus  prepared,  it  will  easily  be  believed  that  when  I came  into 
close  intellectual  communion  with  a person  of  the  most  eminent 
faculties,  whose  genius,  as  it  grew  and  unfolded  itself  in  thought, 
continually  struck  out  truths  far  in  advance  of  me,  but  in  which  I 
could  not,  as  I had  done  in  those  others,  detect  any  mixture  of 
error,  the  greatest  part  of  my  mental  growth  consisted  in  the 
assimilation  of  those  truths;  and  the  most  valuable  part  of  my 
intellectual  work  was  in  building  the  bridges  and  clearing  the  paths 
which  connected  them  with  my  general  system  of  thought.”  ® 

I The  context  shows  that  it  was  Gabriel  Varden  who  was  approaching. 

* Dickens  : Barnaby  Rudge,  chap.  iii.  Disraeli : Lothair,  chap.  Ixxv. 

* Mill : Autobiography,  chap.  vii. 

6 Ibid.  As  a whole,  the  sentence  is  open  to  criticism. 


Chap.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


43 


XI.  Verbal  nouns  in  -ing  are  not  always  carefully 
distinguislied  from  participles  and  other  ver-  words  in 
bal  forms  of  the  same  termination.  The  noun 

should  be  treated  like  any  other  noun,  the  verb  like  a 
verb. 

We  can  say,  “ Much  depends  on  the  faithful  observing  of  this 
rule,”  1 or,  “ on  faithfully  observing  this  rule,”  but  not,  “Much 
depends  on  the  faithfully  observing  the  rule;”  for,  in  the  last  sen- 
tence, the  indicates  that  “ observing  ” is  used  as  a noun;  but,  if  it 
is  so  used,  an  adverb  cannot  precede  it,  and  an  of  should  follow  it. 
The  following  are,  therefore,  wrong:  — 

“But  that  did  him  no  more  good  than  hi%  afterward'^^  trying  to 
pacify  the  Barons  with  lies.”  ® 

“ Ostentation  is  the  great  evil  occasioned  by  riches  — the  preven- 
tion of  simplicity  of  living  — the  raising  the  standard  of  show.”  ® 

XII.  An  adverb  should  not  be  placed  between  to,  the 
sign  of  the  infinitive  mood,  and  its  verb. 

“ He’s  not  the  man  to  tamely  acquiesce.”  * 

“ . . . to  an  active  mind  it  may  be  easier  to  bear  along  all  the 
qualifications  of  an  idea,  and  at  once  rightly  form  it  _A.(lverb  with 
when  named,  than  to  first  imperfectly  conceive  such  infinitive, 
idea.”  ® 

XIII.  Whom  is  sometimes  used  for  who,  who  for  whom, 
whom  for  whose. 

“ Seated  on  an  upright  tombstone,  close  to  him,  was  a strange 
unearthly  figm-e,  whom,  Gabriel  felt  at  once,  was  no 
being  of  this  world.  ”®  whose. 

“ Those  tcAom  he  feels  icouW  gain  most  advantage  by  being  his 
guests,  should  have  the  first  place  in  his  invitations.” 

• Not  inaccurate,  but  awkward ; “ observance  ” would  be  better ; see  p.  101. 

See  XX.  p.  47.  ^ Dickens  • A Child’s  History  of  England,  chap  xiv. 

3 Helps : Social  Pressure,  chap.  xv. 

* Robert  Browning : Colombe’s  Birthday,  act  v. 

® Herbert  Spencer ; Philosophy  of  Style. 

® Dickens  : Pickwick  Papers,  vol.  ii.  chap.  i. 

7 Helps : Social  Pressure,  chap.  x. 

3 


44  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY.  [Book  I. 

“ lie  found  two  French  ladies  in  their  bonnets,  who  he  soon  dis- 
covered to  be  actresses.”  ^ 

“ At  least  I am  resolved  that  the  country  shall  see  who  it  has  to 
thank  for  whatever  may  happen.”  ^ 

“ Saladin,  than  whom  no  greater  name  is  recorded  in  Eastern 
history.”  ® 

XIV.  Which  is  incorrectly  used  with  a clause  as  its 
antecedent. 

“ The  captain  saluted  the  quarter-deck,  and  all  the  officers  saluted 
Antecedents  lie  returned.  ” « 

of  which.  “But  he  made  another  enemy  of  the  Pope,  which  he 
did  in  this  way.”  ^ 

XV.  Who,  whom,  and  whose  are  ineorrectly  used  to 
^ refer  to  impersonal  objects ; which  and,  as  a 

tffiwh;  whose  rulc,  of  which  are  the  proper  pronouns.  Whose 
may,  however,  be  used  for  of  which  where  the 
latter  would  be  peculiarly  harsh  or  awkward. 

“ . . . frequented  by  every  fowl  whom  Nature  has  taught  to  dip 
the  wing  in  water.”  ® 

“ He  was  regarded  as  the  determined  and  active  enemy  of  a na- 
tion whom,  after  all,  he  only  disliked,  and  in  some  sort  despised.”  ’’ 

“ Her  hair  is  deeply  drawn  backwards  from  the  sweet  low  brows 
and  rounded  cheeks,  heaped  and  hidden®  away  under  a knotted 
veil,  whose  flaps  fall  on  either  side  of  her  bright  round  throat.”  ® 

XVI.  A conjunction  is  sometimes  placed  before  a 
“And  wiiicii  ” I’dative  pronoun  in  such  a position  as  to  inter- 

fere  with  the  construction.  “This  fault,”  says 

1 Disraeli : Coningsby,  book  viii.  chap.  vii. 

2 Lord  Brougham : quoted  in  Memoir  of  Viscount  Althorp,  p.  510. 

2 Scott ; The  Talisman,  chap.  vi. 

4 Charles  Reade : Very  Hard  Cash,  chap.  x.  See  also  IV.,  p.  35. 

6 Dickens : A Child’s  History  of  England,  chap.  xiv.  See  also  p.  115. 

® Johnson : Easselas,  chap.  i. 

1 Scott : The  Talisman,  chap.  vii. 

8 Query  as  to  the  noun  for  these  participles. 

® Swinburne;  Essaj’^s  and  Studies  (Notes  on  Designs  of  the  Old  Masters), 
p.  324. 


Chap.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


45 


Dean  Alford,  “ is  one  of  the  commonest  in  the  writing 
of  careless  or  half-educated  persons.”  ^ 

“ II.  R,  H.  the  Princess  of  Wales  acknowledges  &c.,  and  for 
which  she  is  profoundly  recognizant.  ” ^ 

“We  think  of  the  road-side  life  seen  by  Parson  Adams  or  Hum- 
phry Clinker,  and  of  which,  Mr.  Borrow  caught  the  last  glimpse 
when  dwelling  in  the  tents  of  the  Romany.”® 

“ A letter  has  appeared  this  day  in  the  ‘ Shrewsbury  Chronicle,’ 
to  which  some  one  has  ventured  to  sign  his  name,  adopting  the 
statement  of  the  placard,  and  which  statement  thus  signed  I une- 
quivocally declare  to  be  utterly  false.”  * 

“ lie  begged  him  at  the  same  time  carefully  to  preserve  for  him 
his  Highland  garb  and  accoutrements,  particularly  the  arms,  curi- 
ous in  themselves,  and  to  which  the  friendship  of  the  donors  gave 
additional  value.”  ® 

“ The  approach  of  a party,  sent  for  the  puiqiose  of  compelling  the 
country  people  to  bury  their  dead,  and  who  had  already  assembled 
several  peasants  for  that  purpose,  now  obliged  Edward  to  rejoin  his 
guide.”  ® 

XVII.  The  object  is  sometimes  Avritten  as  if  it  were 
the  subject  of  a verb  ; as,  — 

“ /ie  who  made  thee  answer  that.  ” ...  . 

. Nominative 

“ Let  they  who  raise  the  spell  beware  the  Fiend.”  ® for  objective 

“ Thou,  Nature,  partial  Nature,  I arraign ! ” ® 

XVIII.  The  conjunctions  as  anti  than  go  with  the 
subject  or  the  object,  according  to  the  sense. 

“I  esteem  you  more  than  or  as  much  as  they  [do],”  and  “I 
esteem  you  more  than  or  as  much  as  [I  do]  them,”  are 
both  right.  Not  so  the  use,  as  in  the  following  exam-  ^*'*’*' 


' Tlie  Queen’s  English,  Section  445  (edition  of  1870). 

® Quoted  in  The  Queen’s  English,  Section  447. 

® Leslie  Stephen : Life  of  Pope  (English  Men  of  Letters),  chap.  iv. 

* Disraeli : Address  to  the  Electors  of  Slirewsburj'. 

5 Scott:  AVaverlej",  vol.  ii.  chap.  xxvi. 

® Ibid.,  chap.  xxiv.  See  also  p.  55.  BjTon : Cain. 

8 llulwer:  llichelieu,  act  ii.  scene  i. 

9 Burns:  vol.  i.  p.  220,  Aldine  edition. 


46 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


pies,  of  as  or  than  as  a preposition  affecting  the  case  of  the  following 
noun : — 

‘ ‘ You  know  as  well  as  nie  that  he  never  swerves  from  his  resolu- 
tions.” ^ 

‘ ‘ What  would  be  the  feelings  of  such  a woman  as  her,  were  the 
world  to  greet  her  some  fine  morning  as  Duchess  of  Omnium?  ” ^ 

“ On  the  other  side,  we  have  in  the  second  part,  ‘ On  the  Social 
Condition  of  France,’  a specimen  of  the  style  and  manner  of  Louis 
Bl.anc,  a style  which  belongs'to  no  other  than  he.”  ^ 

‘ ‘ With  a freedom  more  like  the  mUk-maid  of  the  town  than  she 
of  the  plains,  she  accosted  him.”  ^ 

“ Now  I hope  I shall  demonstrate,  if  not,  it  will  be  by  some  one 
abler  than  me  demonstrated,  in  the  course  of  this  business,  that  there 
hever  was  a bribe,”  &c.® 

Usage  has,  ]\owever,  established  than  as  a preposition 
in  the  awh's'/ard  phrase  than  whoin^ — a plirase  which  is 
to  be  regarded  as  an  exception. 

“ Which  -when  Beelzebub  perceived,  than  whom, 

Satan  except,  none  higher  sat.”  t 

“ I am  highly  gratified  by  your  commendation  of  Cowper,  than 
whom  there  never  was  a more  virtuous  or  more  amiable  man.”  ® 

XIX.  Or  is  sometimes  wrongly  used  with  neither. 

“ Natural  language  neither  bookish  nor  vulgar,  neither  redolent 

Or  and  of  the  lamp  or  of  the  kennel.  ’ ’ ® 

neither.  <<  ^ constable  will  neither  act  cheerfully  or  wisely.” 

“ He  neither knew  the  manner  in  which,  or  the  place  where, 

1 Disraeli : Coningsby,  book  viii.  chap.  vi. 

2 Anthony  Trollope : Phineas  Finn,  vol.  ii.  chap.  liv. 

3 The  [London]  Spectator. 

* Scott : The  Abbot,  vol.  i.  chap.  xix. 

6 Burke  : Works,  vol.  vii.  p.  420.  (Edition  1839,  Boston.) 

® Prof.  Conington,  in  his  translation  of  Virgil,  has,  however,  than  who. 

Milton : Paradise  Lost,  book  ii.  line  299. 

8 Landor:  Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  72. 

9 S.  T.  Coleridge.  lo  Swift. 

11  Attention  is  called  to  the  position  of  neither  in  this  and  the  preceding 
examples  ; see  p.  136. 


Chap.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


47 


his  journey  might  be  next  interrupted  by  liis  invisible  attend- 
ant.” 1 

XX.  An  adverb  is  sometimes  put  for  an  adjective, 
or  an  adjective  for  an  adverb. 

“The  returns  [of  an  election],  official  and  otherwise,  are  all 
in.”  Adverb  or 

“Sentimental  and  otherwise.’”*  adjective. 

“Her  almost  childliood.”^  ‘■'•Most  everybody  is  some  better.” 

“She  [Queen  Anne]  was  as  ■near  a legitimate  sovereign  as  it  was 
then  possible  for  a Protestant  to  be.”  ‘ ‘ Our  hitherto  reforms.”  s'* 

Tlie  question  whether  to  use  an  adjective  or  an  ad- 
verb with  a verb  is,  in  every  case,  to  be  determined 
by  the  rules  of  thought,  rather  than  by  those  of  gram- 
mar. The  principle  is,  that  the  adverb  should  be  used 
where  the  intention  is  to  qualify  the  vjsrb,  the  adjective 
where  the  intention  is  to  qualify  the  noun.  It  is  safe 
to  join  the  adjective  with  a verb  for  which  the  corre- 
sponding form  of  to  he  or  to  seem  can  be  substituted. 
The  following  are  right : — 

The  sea  looks  rough,  and  the  winds  treat  him  roughlg;  his  voice 
sounds  soft,  and  he  speaks  softbj;  how  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps,  and 
how  sweetly  she  sings ; he  looks  fierce,  and  he  holes  fiercely  at  his  rival- 

XXI.  The  wrong  preposition  is  sometimes  used. 

“ The  independence  of  the  Irish  on  the  English  jjarliament.  ” ^ 

“Most  bodies  when  powdered  have  Ti  different  hue  The\vToii<T 
than  when  uncrystallized  and  compact.”  ® preijcsition. 

“ I was  averse  from  a catastrophe  so  feeble.”  ® 

“ Her  nature  was  altogetlier  different  to  that  of  Alice.”  ’’ 

“ ‘ Well,’  said  Miss  Polly,  ‘he’s  grown  quite  another  creature 
to  what  he  was.’  ” ** 

“ The  greatest  masters  of  critical  learning  differ  among  one 
another ® 

' Scott : Mon.-istcry,  vol.  i.  chap.  ix.  Thackeray : Vanity  Fair,  vol.  i.  chap, 
xiii.  2 jo-oiit  Englisli  novel.  Win.  E. II.Lecky:  Hist,  of  the  XVUIth  Cen- 
tur)’,vol.i.  chap.  i.  p.  31.  (Longman.  1878.)  jj  (Jreg  in  The  XIXth  Cen- 

tury. Lingard.  ° J.  D.  Forbes.  ® Shelley.  ’ Anthony  Trollope  : Can  You 
Forgive  Her?  ® Miss  Burney:  Evelina.  * .\ddison  : The  Spectator,  No.  321. 


48 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


“ To  the  contrary,  I have  sought  to  show  that,”  &c.i 

“ A fault  inevitable  by  literary  ladies.”  ^ 

“It  is  unavoidable  to  all  to  have  opinions  without  certain  proofs 
of  their  truth.”  ^ 

“ There  does  not  seem  to  have  been  any  particular  difference 
made  between  the  treatment  of  the  three  persons  who  w’ere  crucified 
on  Calvary.”  ^ 

“ The  meeting  between  them  of  which,  other  persons,  as  it  is 
hinted  elsewhere,  seem  to  be  acquainted^ 

XXII.  The  possessive  case  is  incorrectly  used  as  if 
The  possessive  it  Were  co-exteusivc  with  the  Latin  geni- 

c.ase. 

“In  modern  English,”  says  Mr.  Marsh,-’  “ the  infiected  posses- 
sive of  nouns  expresses  almost  exclusively  the  notion  of  property  or 
appurtenance.  Hence  we  say  a ?nan’s  hat  or  a man’s  hand,  but  the 
description  of  a man',  not  a man's  description.  And,  of  course,  we 
generally  limit  the  application  of  this  form  to  words  which  indicate 
objects  capable  of  possessing  or  enjoying  the  right  of  property,  in  a 
word,®  to  persons,  or  at  least  animated  and  conscious  creatures  [or 
those  represented  as  such,  that  is,  personified],  and  we  accordingly 
.speak  of  a woman’s  bonnet,  but  not  of  a house’s  roof.  In  shoi't,  we 
now  distinguish  between  the  possessive  and  the  genitive.” 

The  rule  laid  down  by  Mr.  Marsh  is  sustained  in  the  main  by 
the  best  modern  usage,  but  it  is  subject  to  many  exceptions. 
Though  we  should  not  speak  of  a house’s  roof,  there  is  the  best 
usage  for  a year’s  work,  the  law’s  delay.  Though  careful  writers 
avoid  in  our  midst,  no  one  hesitates  to  write  on  our  account,  in  my 
absence,  to  their  credit,  for  my  sake,  in  his  defence. 

Such  expressions,  however,  as  Bennington’ s Centennial,'^  the  fire’s 
devastation,"^  London’s  Ufe,^  are  indefensible,  whether  considered  as 
instances  of  the  objective  genitive,  of  vicious  personification,  or  of 
ambiguity. 

* This  is  apparently  a translation  of  the  French  au  contraire, 

2 Hawthorne:  Blithedale  Romance,  chap.  v.  ® Locke. 

J.  Fitzjames  Stephen:  Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fraternity,  chap.  ii. 

Thackeray : Vanity  Fair,  chap.  Ixiv.  ® English  Language,  lect  xviii. 

® Query  as  to  the  position  of  “ in  a word.”  See  p.  140.  ''  American  newspapers. 

® Biography  of  Disraeli  (anonymous),  chap.  ii.  (1877.)  See  also  p.  57. 


Chap.  IV.] 


SOLECISMS. 


49 


XXIII.  The  pronouns,  the  former,  the  latter,  either, 
neither,  are  incorrectly  used  for  the  first,  the  Either  ov  any 
last,  any  one,  no  one.  The  first  four  signify 
one  of  two ; the  second  four,  one  of  three  or  more. 

“ I have  however  discovered,  first,  that  she  does  not  wish  me  to 
form  any  connection  with  Tyrrell;  secondly,  that  there  is  . . .; 
and  thirdly,  that  Warburton  . . . either  ^ wished  to  be  uncivil  or 
unnoticed.  The  latter,  after  all,  was  the  most  probable  suppo- 
sition.” 2 

“ Dnjden,  Pope,  and  Wordsworth  have  not  scrupled  to  lay  a pro- 
fane hand  upon  Chaucer,  a mightier  genius  than  either.”  ® 

It  is,  perhaps,  not  incorrect  to  speak  of  the  last  of  two  ; 
but  it  is  better  to  say  the  latter,  both  because  this  form 
is  favored  by  the  best  usage,  and  because  it  is  in  con- 
formity with  the  principle  of  Canon  I.^ 

XXIV.  Some  forms  of  double  negative  are  still  erro- 
neously used. 

“ The  faculties  are  called  into  no  exercise  by  doing  a thing 
merely  because  others  do  it,  no  more  than  by  believing  Double 
a thing  only  because  others  believe  it.”  ® negatives. 

“ One  whose  desires  and  impulses  are  not  his  own  has  no  char- 
acter, no  more  than  a steam-engine  has  a character.”® 

1 Query  as  to  the  position  of  either;  see  p.  136. 

2 Bulwer  (Lytton) : Pelham,  chap.  xxv. 

® Marsh : English  Language,  lect.  v.,  note. 

See  p.  12.  6 Mill : On  Liberty. 


50 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  1. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IMPROPRIETIES.^ 

Not  only  should  English  words  be  chosen  and  the 
English  idiom  be  followed,  but  the  meanings  given  to 
words  and  their  combinations  should  be  the  English 
meanings,  — the  meanings  assigned  to  them  by  good 
usage. 

To  attempt  a complete  classification  of  the  Impropri- 
eties into  which  even  a well-informed  writer  may  be 
betrayed  would  transcend  the  limits  of  this  work ; but 
some  current  errors  may  be  noted. 

I.  Many  words  are  so  much  alike  in  appearance  or  in 
sound,  as  to  be  mistaken  for  one  another.  They  are 
correctly  distinguished,  as  follows  : — 

Ceremonious  is  properly  applied  to  the  forms  of  civility;  cere- 
monial, to  the  rites  of  religion, 
whicii  sound  We  clarify  sugar,  but  clear  the  mind, 
misleads.  construe  means  to  interpret,  to  show  the  mean- 

ing ; to  construct  means  to  build : we  may  construe  a sentence,  as  in 
translation,  or  construct  it,  as  in  composition. 

Continual  is  used  of  frequently  repeated  acts,  as  “ continual  drop- 
ping wears  away  a stone;”  continuous,  of  uninterrupted  action,  as 
the  continuous  flowing  of  a river. 

To  convince  is  to  satisfy  the  understanding;  to  convict,  to  pro- 
nounce guilty.  “ The  jury  having  been  convinced  of  the  prisoner’s 
guilt,  he  was  convicted.” 

Deadly  means  that  which  inflicts  death ; deathly,  that  which  re- 
sembles death.  We  properly  speak  of  a deadly  poison,  and  of 
deatldy  paleness. 

A decided  opinion  is  a strong  opinion  which,  perhaps,  decides 
1 For  definition,  sec  p.  19. 


Chap.  V.] 


IMPROPlilETIES. 


51 


nothing;  a decisive  opinion  settles  the  question  at  issue.  Any 
lawyei-  may  have  decided  views  on  a case;  the  judgment  of  a court 
is  decisive.  Marengo  was  a decided  victory;  Waterloo  was  a deci- 
sive battle. 

Definite  means  clear,  well-defined;  definitive,  final.  An  execu- 
tive officer’s  ideas  of  his  duty  should  be  definite,  and  his  action 
definitive. 

Egotism  and  egotist  should  not  be  confounded  with  egoism  and 
egoist.  The  disciples  of  Descartes  were  egoists,  the  ego  being  the 
basis  of  their  philosopliy.  “ Dante  and  Milton,”  says  Macaulay, 
“are  not  egotists ; they  rarely  obti'ude  their  idiosyncracies  on  their 
readers.” 

Enormity  is  used  of  deeds  of  unusual  horror,  enormousness  of  things 
unusual  in  size.  We  speak  of  the  enormity  of  Casar  Borgia’s  crimes, 
of  the  enormousness  of  the  Rothschilds’  wealth. 

An  exceptional  case  is  a case  excluded  from  the  operation  of  a 
rule;  exceptionable  conduct  is  conduct  open  to  criticism,  conduct  to 
which  exception  may  be  taken. 

Falseness  (of  a person)  is  the  opposite  of  truthfulness,  falsity  (of 
a thing)  is  the  opposite  of  truth. 

Haply,  now  rarely  used  in  prose,  means  bj'  chance;  happily,  by 
a happy  chance.* 

A person  may  be  healthy,  but  cannot,  except  among  cannibals,  be 
healthful  or  wholesome.  An  article  of  food,  as  such,  is  not  properly 
called  healthy. 

Human  is  that  which  belongs  to  man  as  man;  humane  means  not 
inhuman,  compassionate. 

Likely  implies  a probability  of  whatever  character,  liable  an  un- 
pleasant probability.  One  is  likely  to  enjoy  an  evening,  to  go  home 
to-morrow,  to  die;  liable  to  be  hurt,  to  attacks  of  melancholy. 

Luxuriant  means  superabundant;  luxurious,  contributing  to  or 
consequent  upon  luxury.  We  properly  speak  of  luxuriant  vegeta- 
tion, a Zwzwrtanf  style;  of  /uxur/ous  living,  luxurious  ease.  Milton 
used  luxurious  for  luxuriant.^ 

Negligence  implies  a failure  to  conform  to  an  established  stand- 
ard or  custom ; neglect,  an  act  or  rather  a failure  to  act. 

We  speak  of  the  observation  of  a fact,  of  a star;  of  the  observance 
of  a festival. 

' See  George  Eliot’s  “Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Rev.  Amos  Dartoii,”  chap.  iL 

* Paradise  Lost,  book  ix.  line  209. 

3* 


52 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


The  act  of  a public  officer,  when  within  the  line  of  his  duty,  is 
official,  ■when  beyond  that  line  is  extra-official ; a person  who  forces 
his  services  upon  one  is  officious. 

To  2^urpose  is  expressive  of  an  intention,  a determination;  to 
propose,  of  a suggestion : the  noun  answering  to  the  former  is  pur- 
pose, to  the  \sXteii:  proposal  or  proposition. 

A person  may  be  sensible  of  cold  (that  is,  may  perceive  cold) 
without  being  sensitive  to  cold  (that  is,  troubled  by  cold). 

Sewage  means  the  contents,  sewerage  the  system,  of  sewers. 
These  words  are  often  used  interchangeably,  but  usage  seems  to 
be  gradually  establishing  the  above  distinction. 

A visitor  is  a human  being;  a visitant,  a supernatural  one. 

Vocation  means  calling,  or  profession;  avocation,  calling  away 
from,  something  that  interrupts  regular  business;  as  in  “ Heaven 
is  his  vocation,  and  therefore  he  counts  earthly  employments  his 
avocations:”'^  but  avocations  (the  plural)  seems  to  be  coming  to 
mean  duties,  pursuits.^ 

Womanly  means  belonging  to  woman  as  woman;  womanish, 
effeminate.  A similar  distinction  is  made  between  manly  and 
mannish,  childlike  and  childish. 

II.  Another  class  of  Improprieties  comprises  -words 
that  are  iised  in  a sense  resembling  the  correct  meaning. 

We  allude  to  an  event  not  distinctly  mentioned,  or  directly 
Cases  in -which  Macaulay’s  allusions  are  said  to  imply 

a resemblance  unusual  knowledge  On  the  part  of  the  reader, 
leads.  Apparently  is  used  of  that  which  seems,  but  may 

not  be,  real;  evidently, oithsX  which  both  seems  and  is  real. 

Aivare  refers  to  objects  of  perception,  things  outside  of  ourselves; 
conscious,  to  objects  of  sensation,  things  within  us. 

Conscience,  the  moral  sense,  is  sometimes  misused  for  conscious- 
ness, the  noun  corresponding  to  conscious. 

To  consider  is  wrongly  used  as  a synonyme  for  to  deem;^  it  prop- 
erly means  to  reflect  upon,  to  take  into  consideration.  We  deem  a man 
honest ; we  consider  the  question  of  his  honesty. 

To  discover  is  to  find,  or  to  find  out,  what  previously  existed ; to 
invent  is  to  make — in  idea  or  in  visible  form — for  the  fii’st  time. 
The  force  of  steam  was  discovered  ; the  steam-boat  was  invented. 

* Thomas  Fuller.  ^ See  George  Eliot : Middlemarch,  book  iii.,  chap.  xxiiL 
® This  use  of  consider  is,  unfortunately,  gaining  ground. 


Chap.  V.] 


IMPROPRIETIES. 


63 


To  entail,  which  means  to  determine  the  descent  of  property  (in 
either  a literal  or  a figurative  sense),  is  often  misused : as,  “ playing 
billiards  entails  pedestrianism.” 

To  learn  is  still  sometimes  improperly  used  for  to  teach,  though 
eveiybody  knows  that  teacher  is  not  the  equivalent  of  learner, 
and  that  “a  little  learning  is  a dangerous  thing”  does  not  signify 
that  a little  teaching  is  a dangerous  thing.  Spenser,  Shakspere, 
and  the  book  of  Common  Prayer  use  learn  for  teach  ; but  the  word 
in  this  sense  was  already  obsolete  in  the  time  of  Milton,  as  ap- 
pears from  the  line:  “ [They]  teach  all  nations  what  of  him  they 
learned.”  ^ 

To  lease  is  improperly  used  in  the  sense  of  to  hire  by  lease. 
It  means  to  let  by  lease : the  lessor  leases  to  the  lessee.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  misuse  of  this  word,  one  is  often  at  a loss  to  deter- 
mine from  the  language  of  an  advertisement  whether  an  estate  is 
to  be  let  or  hired. 

Mutual  is  correct  in  the  sense  of  reciprocal,  incorrect  as  used  by 
Dickens,  in  “ Our  Mutual  Friend,”  to  mean  the  friend  we  have  in 
common.  “ Our  Common  Friend  ” would,  however,  hardly  do  as  a 
substitute;  since  “common”  might  be  miderstood  as  meaning 
“ ordinary.” 

Obvious  means  so  evident  as  to  be  in  the  way ; obnoxious  means 
open,  not  to  view,  but  to  criticism. 

Plea  should  be  used  of  the  pleadings  or  of  the  arraignment  before 
the  trial,  not  of  the  argument  at  the  trial.  A plea  is  always  ad- 
dressed to  the  court ; an  argument  may  be  addressed  either  to  the 
court  or  to  the  juiy. 

Premature  properly  means  “too  early  ripe;”  as  “premature 
fruit,”  “a  premature  generalization,”  “ intellect  developed  prem- 
aturely.” It  is  incorrectly  used  to  signify  that  which  is  not  and 
perhaps  never  will  be  ripe;  thus,  the  newspapers  spoke  of  the 
announcement  of  a victory  by  the  Russians  as  premature,  the  fact 
being  that  the  Russians  had  been  beaten. 

Risible  means  capable  of  laughter;  ridiculous,  fit  to  be  laughed  at. 

The  word  team  is  properly  used  in  Shakspere,  “ a team  of 
horse,”  “the  heavenly-harnessed  team ; ” ^ in  Gray,  “drive  their 

1 Paradise  Lost,  book  x.  line  1062. 

2 Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  act  iii.  scene  i.  Henry  TV.,  part  i.  act  iii. 
scene  i. 


54 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


team  afield 1 in  Carlyle,  “when  a team  of  twenty-five  millions 
begins  rearing.”  ^ The  vulgar  expressions,  “ he’s  a whole  team,” 
“ he’s  a full  team,”  are  better  than  the  use  of  the  word  to  include 
the  carriage  as  well  as  the  horses. 

Terse  (Latin  tersus,  wiped'),  as  applied  to  style,  means  clean, 
neat,  free  from  impurities  or  superfiuities,  but  not  necessarily 
strong.  The  word  is  improperly  made  to  signify  “forcible,” 
even  in  cases  where  force  has  been  purchased  at  the  expense  of 
terseness. 

Veracity  is  used  of  persons,  and  refers  to  moral  truth;  reality,  of 
persons  or  things,  and  refers  to  physical  truth,  existence. 

Verbal  means  “ in  words  ” (written  or  spoken) ; oral,  “ by  word 
of  mouth ,”“  spoken . ” 

III.  In  a few  cases  sound  and  a resemblance  in  sense 
conspire  to  lead  astray. 

To  demean  yourself  (from  the  French  dkmener')  is  used  incor- 
Cases  where  rectly  in  the  sense  of  debase,  as  if  it  came  from  mean. 
both  misieail.  jj;  properly  signifies  to  conduct  or  behave  yourself,  as 
demeanor  signifies  conduct  or  behavior,  and  misdemeanor  an  act  of 
bad  conduct. 

A similar  error  is  often  committed  in  the  use  of  behave  yourself, 
or  behave,  as  equivalent  to  behave  yourself  well,  or  behave  well.  The 
verb  to  behave,  like  the  noun  behavior,  requires  a qualifying  word 
to  determine  the  character  of  the  act. 

Fictitious  is  misused  to  mean  “ of  fiction;”  as  “ such  fictitious 
writers  as  Hawthorne.”  ® 

I confess  is  misused  in  cases  in  which  the  idea  of  confession  (as 
of  a fault)  does  not  enter.  Admit  is  the  proper  word. 

The  whole  is  sometimes  misused  for  all;  we  can  speak  cA  “the 
whole  army,”  but  not  of  “ the  whole  troops.” 

Some  active  and  passive  verbs,  similar  both  in  sense  and  in 
sound,  are  confounded  with  each  other;  as:  — 

We  fell,  not  fall,  a tree;  the  tree  falls. 

We  lie  down  to-night,  we  lay  down  yesterday,  our  studies  have 

1 Elegy  in  a Country  Churchyard. 

2 The  French  Revolution,  part  i.  book  iii.  chap.  v. 

3 Sennon  by  an  American  clergj-man. 


Chap.  V.] 


IMPROPEIETIES. 


55 


lain  in  certain  directions ; but  we  lay  a book  down  to-night,  we  laid 
it  down  yesterday,  we  liave  laid  aside  our  studies.  A ship  lies  to, 
not  lays  to.  The  same  distinction  applies  to  compounds;  as,  to 
underlie,  to  overlay. 

Yeast  raises,  not  rises,  bread;  the  bread  rises. 

We  sit  down,  but  set  a thing  down.  A sitting  hen,  the  setting 
sun,  “ his  coat  sits  well,”  are  proper. 

IV.  English  words  are  sometimes  wrongly  used  in 
the  sense  which  corresponding  words  bear  in  a foreign 
tongue. 

Impracticalle  (French)  is  used  in  the  sense  of  impassable;  con- 
cession, in  the  sense  of  legislative  grant ; pronounced ' Gallicisms  and 
(French  prononce),  in  the  sense  of  decided  or  striking ; Latinisms. 
supreme  (Latin  supremus),  in  the  sense  of  last;  '•'•the  epic  poem,” 
'•'•the  revolution,”  in  the  sense  (agreeably  to  the  French  idiom)  of 
“epic  poetry,”  “revolution;”  the  most  for  “most;”  resume  for 
“sum  up;”  assist^  for  “be  present”  at.  We  read  that  a window 
gives  upon  (French  donne  sur),  meaning  looks  upon  or  opens  upon  the 
lawn.  In  Pennsylvania,  what  for  a (German  was  fur  ein)  is  some- 
times used  for  what  kind  of  a.  “ Much  of  truth  ” is  a Gallicism. 

V.  Some  other  Improprieties  are  enumerated  in  the 
following  extract  from  Mill’s  “ System  of  Logic  : ” ^ 

“ So  many  persons  without  any  thing  deserving  the  name  of 
education  have  become  writers  by  profession,  that  writ- 

V ul^tVrisius 

ten  language  may  almost  be  said  to  be  principally  “ 
wielded  by  persons  ignorant  of  the  proper  use  of  the  instrument, 
and  who  ® are  spoiling  it  more  and  more  for  those  who  understand 
it.  Vulgarisms,  which  creep  in  nobody  knows  how,  are  daily 
depriving  the  English  language  of  valuable  modes  of  expressing 
thought.  To  take  a present  instance:  the  verb  transpire  formerly 
conveyed  very  expressively  its  correct  meaning;  viz.,  to  become 
known  through  unnoticed  channels,  to  exhale,  as  it  were,  into  pub- 
licity through  invisible  pores,  like  a vapor  or  gas  disengaging 
itself.  But  of  late  a practice  has  commenced  ^ of  employing  this 
word,  for  the  sake  of  finery,  as  a mere  synonyme  of  to  happen: 

1 For  these  words,  however,  the  authority  is  increasing. 

* Book  iv.  chap.  v.  sect.  iii.  ® See  p.  44.  ^ See  p.  16. 


56 


GRAMMATICAL  TURITY. 


[Book  I. 


‘ the  events  which  have  transpired  in  the  Crimea,’  meaning  the 
incidents  of  the  war.  This  vile  specimen  of  bad  English  is  already- 
seen  in  the  dispatches  of  noblemen  and  viceroys ; and  the  time  is 
apparently  not  far  distant  when  nobody  will  understand  the  word 
if  used  in  its  proper  sense.  In  other  cases  it  is  not  the  love  of 
finery,  but  simple  want  of  education,  which  makes  writers  employ 
words  in  senses  unknown  to  genuine  English.  The  use  of  aggra- 
vating ior  provoking,  in  my  boyhood  a vulgarism  of  the  nursery,  has 
crept  into  almost  all  newspapers  and  into  many  books ; and  when 
the  word  is  used  in  its  proper  sense,  — as  when  writers  on  criminal 
law  speak  of  ‘ aggravating  and  extenuating  circumstances,’  — their 
meaning,  it  is  probable,  is  already  misunderstood.  It  is  a great 
error  to  think  that  these  coiTuptions  of  language  do  no  harm. 
Those  who  are  struggling  with  the  difficulty  (and  who  know  by 
experience  how  great  it  already  is)  of  expressing  one’s  self  clearly 
with  precision,  find  their  resources  continually  narrowed  by  illiter- 
ate writers,  who  seize  and  twist  from  its  purpose  some  foirm  of 
speech  which  once  served  to  convey  briefly  and  compactly  an  unam- 
biguous meaning.  It  would  hardly  be  believed  how  often  a writer 
is  compelled  to  a circumlocution  by  the  single  vulgarism,  introduced 
during  the  last  few  years,  of  using  the  word  alone  as  an  adverb, 
onhj  not  being  fine  enough  for  the  rhetoric  of  ambitious  ignorance. 
A man  will  say,  ‘ to  which  I am  not  alone  bound  by  honor  but  also 
by  law,’  unaware  that  what  he  has  unintentionally  said  is,  that  he 
is  not  alone  bound,  some  other  person  being  bound  with  him.  For- 
merly, if  any  one  said,  ‘ I am  not  alone  responsible  for  this,’  he  was 
understood  to  mean  (what  alone  his  words  mean  in  cori’ect  Eng- 
lish), that  he  is  not  the  sole  person  responsible;  but  if  he  now 
used  such  an  expression,  the  reader  would  be  confused  between 
that  and  two  other  meanings:  that  he  is  not  only  responsible  but 
something  more,  or  that  he  is  responsible  not  only  for  this  but  for 
something  besides.  The  time  is  coming  when  Tennyson’s  (Enone 
could  not  say,  ‘ I will  not  die  alone,’  lest  she  should  be  supposed 
to  mean  that  she  would  not  only  die  but  do  something  else. 

‘'The  blunder  of  writing  predicate  for  predict  has  become  so 
widely  diffused  that  it  bids  fair  to  render  one  of  the  most  useful 
terms  in  the  scientific  vocabulary  of  Logic  unintelligible.  The 
mathematical  and  logical  term  “to  eliminate”  is  undergoing  a 
similar  destruction.  All  who  are  acquainted  either  with  the  proper 


Chap.  V.J 


IMPEOPRIETIES. 


57 


use  of  the  word  or  with  its  etymology,  know  that  to  eliminate  a 
thing  is  to  thrust  it  out;  but  those  who  know  nothing  about  it, 
except  that  it  is  a fine-looking  phrase,  use  it  in  a sense  precisely 
the  reverse,  — to  denote,  not  turning  any  thing  out,  but  bringing  it 
in.  They  talk  of  eliminating  some  truth,  or  other  useful  result, 
from  a mass  of  details. ^ A similar  permanent  deterioration  in  the 
language  is  in  danger  of  being  produced  by  the  blunders  of  trans- 
latoi’s.  The  writers  of  telegrams,  and  the  foreign  correspondents 
of  newspapers,  have  gone  on  so  long  translating  demander  by  ‘ to 
demand,’  without  a suspicion  that  it  means  only  to  ask,  that  (the 
context  generally  showing  that  nothing  else  is  meant)  English 
readers  are  gradually  associating  the  English  word  demand  with 
simple  asking,  thus  leaving  the  language  without  a term  to  express 
a demand  in  its  proper  sense.  In  like  manner,  transaction,  the 
French  word  for  a compromise,  is  translated  into  the  English  w'ord 
‘ transaction;’  while,  curiously  enough,  the  inverse  change  is  tak- 
ing place  in  France,  where  the  word  compromis  has  lately  begun  to 
be  used  for  expressing  the  same  idea.  If  this  continues,  the  tw’o 
countries  will  have  exchanged  phrases.” 

“ ‘ Quite’  is  employed  in  every  sense  where  greatness  or  quantity 
has  to  be  expressed,  and  seems  to  me  to  be  more  injurious  to  the 
effect  of  literary  composition  than  the  misuse  of  any  other  single 
word.  ‘ The  enemy  was  quite  in  force,’  ‘ Wounded  quite  severely,’ 
‘Quite  some  excitement ’( !)  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  Somewhat 
akin  to  this  is  the  word  ‘ piece  ’ to  express  distance : we  say  ‘ a piece 
of  land,’  or  ‘ a piece  of  water;  ’ but  it  is  nothing  less  than  a distor- 
tion of  the  word’s  use  ^ to  say  that  ‘ you  should  not  shoot  at  a rat- 
tlesnake unless  you  were  off  a piece,’  or  ‘ We  are  travelling  quite  a 
piece,’  — which  latter  I heard  said  by  a judge  to  a member  of  Con- 
gress when  we  w’ere  crossing  the  ^lississippi,  and,  owing  to  the 
floating  ice,  w^ere  compelled  to  run  a little  way  up  the  river.”® 

Of  these  expressions  some  are  peculiar  to  the  United  States, 

1 “ Though  no  such  evil  consequences  as  take  place  in  these  instances  are 
1 kcly  to  arise  from  the  modern  freak  of  writing  sanatory  instead  of  sanitary,  it 
deserves  notice  as  a charming  specimen  of  pedantry  ingrafted  upon  ignorance. 
Those  who  thus  undertake  to  correct  tlic  spelling  of  the  classical  English  wi iters 
are  not  aware  that  the  meaning  of  sanatory,  if  there  were  such  a word  in  the 
language,  would  have  reference,  not  to  the  prcserv'ation  of  healtli,  but  to  the  cure 
of  di.sease.'’  ta  Logic. 

Sec  p.  48.  ® United  States  F.nglish:  Chambers’  Journal. 


58 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


but  others  are  at  least  equally  common  in  England.  If  Ameri- 
cans say  quite  a good  deal  more  frequently  than  Englishmen,  Eng- 
lishmen use  quite  and  quite  so  by  themselves  more  persistently  than 
Americans  do : and  both  English  and  Americans  use  quite  in  the 
sense  of  “not  quite.”  Quite  should  be  used  in  the  sense  of  “en- 
tirelynever  for  “ rather”  or  “very.” 

VI.  The  subjoined  citations  illustrate  some  of  the 
Improprieties  that  have  been  pointed  out : — 

“ The  rains  rendered  the  roads  impracticable.”  ^ 

“ The  Porte  . . . was  not  to  be  held  as  thereby  acknowledging 
a right  of  interference  which  must  in  its  very  nature  be  exception- 
ahlc.”  2 

“ He  was  gathering  [on  his  death-bed]  a few  supreme  memo- 
ries.” 2 

“ The  negligence  of  this  leaves  us  exposed  to  an  un- 
E.xamples.  ^Qj^^ion  levity  in  our  conversation.  ” ^ 

“ Those  who  hold  the  concession  [of  a horse  railroad]  ought  to  be 
looked  upon  only  as  servants  of  the  people.”  ® 

“I  may  say,  without  vanity,  that  there  is  not  a gentleman  in 
England  better  read  in  tombstones  than  myself,  my  studies  having 
laid  very  much  in  churchyards.”  ® 

“ The  ancient  avocation  of  picking  pockets.”  ’ 

“ These  ceremonious  rites  became  familiar.® 

“ Modestly  bold  and  humanly  severe.”  ^ 

“ The  enormity  of  the  distance  between  the  earth  and  the  smi.” 

“.  . . he ’d  hesitate, 

A doubt  his  lady  could  demean  herself 
So  low  as  to  accept  me.”  u 

“ The  loads  of  merchandise  which  now  pass  in  teams  through  our 
narrow  streets  will,  when  this  improvement  is  completed,  make  the 
transit  by  rail.” 

1 Southey.  See  also  p.  73. 

2 The  Duke  of  Argyll,  in  The  Contemporary  Review. 

® A recent  American  novel.  * The  Spectator,  No.  76. 

® Montreal  Gazette.  o The  Spectator,  No.  578. 

t Sydney  Smith : quoted  in  Hall’s  Modern  English. 

8 Robertson.  ® Pope : Essay  on  Criticism, 

w The  Edinburgh  Review.  (1876.) 
u Browning:  Colombo’s  Birthday,  act  iv. 


Chap.  V.] 


IMPROPRIETIES. 


59 


“ His  domestic  virtues  are  too  well  known  to  make  it  necessai-y 
to  allude  to  them.”  ^ 

“A  single  quotation  from  the  ‘Epistles’  of  Horace,  in  his* 
‘ Life  ’ of  Lucullus,  exhausts,  if  I do  not  mistake,  the  entire  of  his 
references.”* 

“The  gloomy  staircase  on  which  the  grating  fjave."^’' 

“ The  Cardinal  declares  that  he  ‘ dies  tranquil,  in  the  conscience 
of  never  having  failed  in  his  duty  toward  the  sacred  person  of  the 
Pope.’”  4 

“ . . . the  loss  of  time  over  each  word  must  entail  such  an 
accumulation  of  delays  as  to  leave  a hearer  entirely  behind.”® 

“ Mara’s  opinion  in  their  mutual  studies  began  to  assume  a value 
in  his  eyes  that  her  opinion  on  other  subjects  had  never  done,  and 
she  saw  and  felt,  with  a secret  gratification,  that  she  was  becoming 
more  to  him  through  their  mutual  pursuit.”  ® 

“ Its  judgments  . . . not  alone  con^ina  Swift’s  own  account  of 
his  studies,  but  apply  otherwise.”  ’ 

“ Since  he  last  spoke,  he  said  events  had  transpired  in  the  country 
which  changed  the  aspect  of  affairs.  ’ ’ ® 

“ The  deacons  seem  to  have  been  quite  unconscious  that  the  pro- 
visions of  Mr. ’s  wull  prohibited  what  they  were  doing.”  * 

“Resolved,  That  the  directors,  if  they  deem  it  expedient,  may 
lease  or  otherwise  aid,  as  authorized  by  statutes,  in  the  construction 
and  operation  of  any  branch  or  connecting  railroads.” 

“ Besides  those  charges  of  vanity  and  display,  to  which  in  com- 
mon with  the  sophists  they  were  obvious.” 

“ ‘ Art  thou  still  so  much  surprised,’  said  the  Emir,  ‘ and  hast 
thou  walked  in  the  world  wdth  such  little  observance  as  to  wonder 
that  men  are  not  always  what  they  seem?  ’ ” n 

' Balling : Life  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  part  vi.  chap.  iii. 

* Whose?  The  meaning  is,  “ Plutarch’s.”  See  p.  72. 

* Archbishop  Trench : Plutarch,  lect.  i. 

**  Dickens : Little  Dorritt,  book  i.  chap.  i. 

^ The  [London]  Spectator.  (1876.) 

® Spencer : Philosophy  of  Style. 

® American  novel. 

’ John  Forster:  Life  of  Swift,  book  i.  chap.  ii. 

® Report  of  a political  speech.  ® American  newspaper. 

Archbishop  Trench : Plutarch,  lect.  iii. 

" Scott:  The  Talisman,  chap,  xxiii. 


60  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY.  [Book  I. 

“Pie  then  returned  to  the  Golden  Lamb,  and  waited  there  for 
his  first  visitant,  the  minstrel.”  ^ 

“ Quite  a sentimental  chapter.”  * 

“ I quite  feel  that,  in  deciding  as  we  do,  we  are  going  counter  to 
Hodgson  V.  Johnson.”  ^ 

“ The  whole  of  General  Grant’s  men  at  that  time  may  have 
aggi'egated^  fifty  thousand.” 

“ We  are  more  liable  to  become  acquainted  with  a man’s  faults 
than  with  his  virtues.” 

“ / confess  that  I think  that  it  is  impossible,  or  at  least  that  it 
would  be  very  unwise,  if  it  were  possible,  to  maintain  the  House  of 
Lords.”  ® 

“ He  kindly  learns  us  to  endure.” 

VII.  Among  Improprieties  belong  tautological®*  ex- 
pressions like  the  following  : — 

First  or  original  aggressor,^  mutually  reciprocal,  funeral  obsequies,'  cer- 
other  impvo-  dantgreen,umbrageousshade,syl‘vanfoi'est,standardpattern, 

piieties.  collier,  popular  (in the  sense  of  “ ordinary” 

or  “ common  ")  people  (one  sometimes  hears  that  a politician  is  popular 
with  the  people^),  mare  superior,  more  standard,  morepreferdble, false  mis- 
representations,^ somewhat  unanimous,  universal  panacea  of  all. 

Under  tliis  head,  too,  fall  superlative  forms  of  adjec- 
tives that  are  already  superlative  in  meaning;  as, — 

Most  perfect,  most  unbounded,  most  extreme,  most  unprecedented,  too 
universal,  very  priceless,  most  hopeless,  most  merciless,  most  complete,  most 
unparallded,  very  incessant,  so  insepa/rahle,  more  or  less  invariable. 

In  poetry  which  represents  a state  of  feeling  too  in- 
tense to  be  satisfied  with  ordinary  expressions,  violations 
of  grammatical  propriety,  like  those  last  named,  are  per- 
mitted ; but  in  ordinary  prose  they  are  inexcusable. 

‘ Bulwer  : Kenelm  Chillingly,  book  iii.  chap.  xii. 

* Thackeray  : Vanity  Fair,  vol.  i.,  heading  to  chap.  xii.  See  also  p.  80. 

^ Justice  Lush  : 1 Queen’s  Bench  Rep.,  p.  290.  (1876.)  * See  p.  8. 

® Helps  ; Thoughts  on  Government,  chap.  iv. 

® The  Quarterly  Review.  (1876.)  See  p.  113. 

’ Disraeli : first  speech  in  Parliament.  Bulwer : The  Coming  Raee, 
chap.  xxiv. 

® See  John  Briglit : Speeches,  vol.  i.  p.  469 ; Speech  at  Manchester  (1878). 


Chap.  V.] 


IMPROPRIETIES. 


61 


VIII.  Each  word  in  a phrase  may  be  used  in  its 
proper  sense,  and  yet  the  phrase,  taken  as  a whole, 
may  contain  an  Impropriety. 

“Adam  Improprieties 

The  goodliest  man  of  men,  since  horn  phrases. 

Ilis  sons;  the  fairest  of  her  daughters  Eve.”  t 

“ The  solace  arising  from  this  consideration  seems,  indeed,  the 
weakest  of  all  others."  ^ 

“ Andrew  Jolinson,  the  last  survivor  of  his  honored  predecessors." 

“ I do  not  reckon  that  we  want  a genius  more  than  the  rest  of  our 
neighbors.  ’ ’ ® 

“ AVe  are  at  peace  with  all  the  tvorld,  and  seek  to  maintain  our 
cherished  relations  of  amity  ivith  the  rest  of  mankind.”  * 

“ The  first  project  was  to  shorten  discourse  hy  cutting  polysyllables 
into  one."  ® 

“ I solemnly  declare  that  I have  not  wilfully  committed  the  leasti 
mistake."^ 

“ Never  did  Atticus  succeed  better  in  gaining  the  universal  love 
and  esteem  of  all  men.” 

“ IIow  many  are  there  by  whom  these  tidings  of  good  news  were 
never  heard?  ” ® 

“ This  subject,  which  caused  mutual  a.stonishment  and  perplexity 
to  us  both,  entirely  engrossed  us  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.”  ® 

Some  Improprieties,  though  ungrammatical,  are  rhe- 
torically defensible.  Khetoric 

overruling 

“ lie  [Cerberus]  was  a big,  rough,  ugly-looking  grammar, 
monster,  with  three  separate  heads,  and  each  of  them  fiercer  than 
the  two  others." 

1 Milton:  Paradise  Lost,  book  iv.  line  32-3. 

3 Johnson  : The  Rambler,  No.  52. 

<1  Swift : Proposal  for  ascertaining  the  English  Tongue. 

4 President  Taylor:  Message  to  Congress,  Dec.  4,  1849,  as  printed  in  the 
newspapers  of  the  day  from  the  official  copy.  The  sentence  was  so  much  ridi- 
culed at  the  time,  that  it  was  partly  corrected  in  “ The  Globe,”  and  altogether  in 
the  permanent  official  record. 

5 Swift:  Gulliver’s  Trav'els  ; A Voyage  to  Laputa. 

® Swift:  Remarks  on  the  Barrier  Treaty.  t The  Spectator,  No.  4G7. 

8 Bolingbroke.  9 Miss  Burnej' : Evelina. 

19  Hawthorne:  3 anglewood  Tales ; The  Pomegranate  Seeds. 


62 


GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 


[Book  I. 


“ This  made  several  women  look  at  one  another  slyly,  each  know- 
ing more  than  the  others,  and  nodding  while  sounding  the  others’ 
ignorance.”  ^ . 

Evidently,  in  these  instances,  the  literal  statement  cannot  be 
true;  but  the  imagination  makes  it  seem  true,  by  making  each  of 
the  three  objects  compared  appear,  at  the  moment  it  is  looked  at, 
superior  to  the  others  in  the  point  of  comparison. 


1 R.  D.  Blackmore : Cripps  the  Carrier,  chap.  xii. 


Chap.  I.] 


PEINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


63 


BOOK  II. 

CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 

Having  ilefii.ed  that  good  use  which  determines 
what  is  and  what  is  not  pure  English,  and  noted  some 
violations  of  its  rules,  such  as  even  writers  of  eredit 
inadvertently  commit,  we  have  now  to  consider  how 
communication  by  language  can  be  rendered  efficient 
for  its  purpose. 

In  every  spoken  or  written  composition,  three  things 
should  be  regarded:  (1)  the  choice  of  words ; (2)  their 
number ; and  (3)  their  arrangement. 

Other  things  being  equal,  a speaker  or  writer  who 
has  the  largest  stock  of  words  to  choose  from 
will  choose  the  best  words  for  his  purpose,  aii  ample 

TT  1 1 . T 1 !•  ^ vocabulary. 

Hence,  the  desirableness  ot  an  ample  vo- 
cabulary. 

In  the  copiousness  and  variety  of  the  vocabularies  at 
their  command,  men  differ  widely.  Of  the  one  hundred 
thousand  words  computed  to  exist  in  the  English  lan- 
guage, there  occur  in  Shakspere  “ not  more  than  fifteen 
thousand,  in  the  poems  of  Milton  not  above  eight  thou- 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 

sand.  The  whole  number  of  Egyptian  hieroglyphic 
s3mibols  does  not  exceed  eight  hundred,  and  the  entire 
Italian  operatic  vocabulary  is  said  to  be  scarcely  more 
extensive.”  ^ The  vocabulary  of  business  has  not  been 
estimated,  but  it  is  certainly  a small  one.  So  is  that 
which  suffices  for  the  ordinary  necessities  of  a traveller. 
Poverty  of  language  is  the  source  of  much  slang,  a favor- 
ite word  — as  nice,  nasty,  beastly,  jolly,  awful,  stunning, 
splendid,  lovely,  handsome,  immense  — being  employed  for 
so  many  purposes  as  to  serve  no  one  purpose  effectively. 
A copious  vocabulary,  on  the  other  hand,  supplies  a fresh 
word  for  every  fresh  thought  or  fancy. 

The  first  thing,  then,  to  be  done  by  a man  who  would 
learn  to  speak  or  to  write  well,  is  to  enlarge  his  vocab- 
ulary ; and  the  best  way  to  do  this  is  to  make  himself  fa- 
miliar with  the  classics  of  his  native  tongue,  taking  care 
always  to  learn  with  the  new  word  its  exact  force  in  the 
place  where  it  occurs.  Words  majg  of  course,  be  gathered 
from  a dictionary;’*  but  for  most  people  it  is  better  to 
study  them  in  their  context.  For  this  purpose. 

How  to  en-  , / , , i , 

large  one’s  books  that  One  really  enior’S  are  better  than 

vocflbultiry,  , v %)  *j  ^ 

those  in  which,  though  intrinsically  more  val- 
uable, one  takes  a languid  interest ; for  the  memory  firm- 
ly retains  that  only  which  has  fastened  the  attention. 

Care  should,  however,  be  taken  to  educate  the  taste ; 
for  one  who  is  familiar  with  the  best  authors  will  natu- 
rally use  good  language,  as  a child  who  hears  in  the 
family  circle  none  but  the  best  English  talks  well  with- 
out knowing  it.  As,  moreover,  every  person,  however 
well  brought  up,  comes  in  contact  with  those  who  have 
not  had  his  advantages,  hears  from  his  companions  or 

* Marsh ; English  Language,  lect.  viii. 

2 Chatham  “ told  a friend  that  he  had  read  over  Bailey’s  English  dictionary  twice 
from  beginning  to  end.”  Lecky ; England  in  the  18th  century,  vol.  ii.,  chap.  viii. 


Chap.  I.J 


PEINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


65 


meets  in  the  newspapers  phrases  such  as  he  does  not 
hear  at  home  or  meet  in  good  authors,  it  behooves  him 
to  fix  in  his  mind,  as  early  as  possible,  the  principles  of 
choice  in  language. 


SECTION  I. 
Clearness. 


A writer  or  speaker  should,  in  the  first  place,  choose 
that  word  or  phrase  Avhich  will  clearly  convey  his  mean- 
ing to  the  reader  or  listener.  It  is  not  enough  to  use  lan- 
guage that  may  he  understood ; he  should  use  importance  of 
language  that  must  be  understood.^  He  should  (Clearness, 
remember  that,  so  far  as  the  attention  is  called  to  the 
medium  of  communication,  so  far  is  it  withdrawn  from 
the  ideas  communicated,  and  this  even  when  the  me- 
dium is  free  from  flaws.  How  much  more  serious  the 
evil  when  the  medium  obscures  or  distorts  an  object. 

If,  to  every  one  who  understands  the  language,  every 
word  always  meant  one  thing  and  one  thing  only,  and 
if  the  combinations  of  words  exactly  corre- 
sponded to  the  relations  of  things.  Clearness  of’wdung 
(otherwise  called  Perspicuity)  would  be  se- 
cured by  grammatical  correctness  ; but,  in  languages  as 
they  exist.  Clearness,  even  under  the  most  favorable 
conditions,  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  attain. 

Such  certainly,  for  example,  were  the  conditions  un- 
der which  Macaulay  wrote  his  “ History.”  He  was  not 
hampered  by  originality  of  thought  or  breadth  of  view  ; 
what  he  saw  at  all  he  saw  distinctly ; what  he  believed 
he  believed  with  his  whole  strength  ; he  wrote  on  sub- 


^ Quintilian:  Inst.  Orator,  viii.  ii.  xxiv.  “Non  ut  iutellegere  possit,sed 
ne  omnino  possit  non  intellegere,  curandura.” 


G6 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II, 


jects  with  Avhicli  he  had  been  long  familiar ; and  he 
made  perspicuity  his  primary  object  in  composition : 
for  him,  in  short,  the  difficulty  of  clear  expression 
inlierent  in  the  very  nature  of  language  was  compli- 
cated with  scarcely  any  other  difficulty.  That  diffi- 
culty he  overcame  with  unusual  success,  as  all  his 
critics  ^ admit ; but  with  how  much  labor  his  biogra- 
pher will  tell  us. 

“ The  main  secret  of  Macaulay’s  success  lay  in  this,  that  to 
extraordinary  fluency  and  facility  he  united  patient,  minute,  and 
perMstent  diligence.  He  well  knew,  as  Chaucer  knew  before  him, 
that,  — 

“ ‘ There  is  na  workeman 
That  can  bothe  worken  wel  and  hastilie. 

This  must  bo  done  at  leisure  parfaitlie.’ 

If  his  method  of  composition  ever  comes  into  fashion , books  prob- 
ably will  be  better,  and  undoubtedly  will  be  shorter.  As  soon  as 
he  had  got  into  his  head  all  the  information  relating  to  any  particu- 
lar episode  in  his  ‘ History  ’ (such,  for  instance,  as  Argyll’s  expe- 
dition to  Scotland,  or  the  attainder  of  Sir  John  Fenwick,  or  the 
calling  in  of  the  clipped  coinage) , he  would  sit  down  and  write  off 
the  whole  story  at  a headlong  pace,  sketching  in  the  outlines  under 
the  genial  and  audacious  impulse  of  a first  conception,  and  seeming 
in  black  and  white  each  idea  and  epithet  and  turn  of  phrase,  as  it 
flow'ed  straight  from  his  busy  brain  to  his  rapid  fingers.  . . . 

‘ ‘ As  soon  as  Macaulay  had  finished  his  rough  draft,  he  began  to 
fill  it  in  at  the  rate  of  six  sides  of  foolscap  every  morning,  written 
in  so  large  a hand  and  with  such  a multitude  of  erasures,  that  the 
whole  six  pages  were,  on  an  average,  compressed  into  two  pages  of 
print.  This  portion  he  called  his  ‘task,’  and  he  was  never  quite  easy 
unless  he  completed  it  daily.  More  he  seldom  sought  to  accom- 
plish ; for  he  had  learned  by  long  experience  that  this  was  as  much 
as  he  could  do  at  his  best;  and  except  when  at  his  best,  he  never 
would  work  at  aU.  . . . 

“ Macaulay  never  allowed  a sentence  to  pass  muster  until  it  was 

1 One  of  tbe  severest  of  them,  Mr.  John  Morley,  says,  in  The  Fortnightly 
Review,  that  Macaulay  “ never  wrote  an  obscure  sentence  in  his  life.” 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


67 


as  good  as  he  could  make  it.  He  thought  little  of  recasting  a chap- 
ter in  order  to  obtain  a more  lucid  arrangement,  and  nothing  what- 
ever of  reconstructing  a paragraph  for  the  sake  of  one  happy  stroke 
or  apt  illustration.  "Whatever  the  worth  of  his  labor,  at  any  rate  it 
was  a labor  of  love.”  ^ 

Clearness  is  a relative  term.  The  same  treatment 
cannot  be  given  to  every  subject,  nor  to  the  same  sub- 
ject under  different  conditions.  Words  that  are  per- 
fectly clear  in  a metaphysical  treatise  may 
be  obscure  in  a didactic  poem;  those  that  a relative 
are  admirably  adapted  to  a political  pamphlet 
may  be  ambiguous  in  a sermon  ; a discourse  written  for 
an  association  of  men  of  science  will  not  answer  for 
a lyceum  lecture  ; a speaker  must  be  clearer  than  a 
Avriter,  since  a speaker’s  meaning  must  be  caught  at 
once  if  at  all.  “ Eloquence  is  the  power  to  translate  a 
truth  into  language  perfectly  intelligible  to  the  person  to 
whom  you  speak.  He  Avho  Avould  convince  the  worthy 
Mr.  Dunderhead  of  any  truth  which  Dunderhead  does 
not  see,  must  be  a master  of  his  art.  Declamation  is 
common ; but  such  possession  of  thought  as  is  here  re- 
quired, such  practical  chemistry  as  the  conversion  of  a 
truth  written  in  God’s  language  into  a truth  in  Dun- 
derhead’s language,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  co- 
gent weapons  that  is  ^ forged  in  the  shop  of  the  Divine 
Artificer.”  ^ 

In  the  fact  that  it  is  a relative  quality,  perspicuity 
differs  from  precision.  The  writer  Avho  aims  Distinguished 
at  scientific  accuracy,  finding  ordinary  Avords  precision, 
in  their  ordinary  meanings  vague  or  equivocal,  either 

^ G.  Otto  Treveb'an : Life  and  Letters  of  Lord  Jlacaula}’,  vol.  ii.  p.  198.  See 
also  Mill’s  account  of  his  method  of  composition:  Autobiography,  p.  222. 

2 See  p.  3-1.  3 Emerson : Letters  and  Social  Aims,  p.  116. 

I 


GS 


CHOICE  AED  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Hook  11. 


must  employ  familiar  words  in  an  unfamiliar  way,  or 
must  adopt  or  invent  peculiar  terms.  Hence,  in  the 
several  sciences,  systems  of  nomenclature  have  arisen 
which  must  he  mastered  before  the  sciences  of  which 
they  are  the  language  can  be  thoroughly  understood. 
Each  of  these  systems  forms,  as  Latin  did  during  the 
Middle  Ages,  a medium  of  communication  between 
scholars  ; but  it  is  no  more  to  be  considered  a part  of 
the  English  language  than  of  the  German  or  the  French. 
Like  the  terms  and  formulas  of  algebra,  it  constitutes  a 
dialect,  — a dialect  which  may,  indeed,  like  other  dia- 
lects, contribute  to  the  general  language  ; but  of  which 
the  terms,  until  sanctioned  by  good  use,  stand  on  the 
same  footing  with  mathematical  or  nautical  terms. 
Thus,  the  very  precision  which,  for  a specialist,  is  indis- 
pensable to  perspicuity,  may  render  a work  unintelligi- 
ble to  the  general  public ; for  the  reader  who  is  not 
familiar  with  technical  terms  cannot  be  made  familiar 
with  the  minutiae  signified  by  those  terms.  A scholar, 
then,  who  would  impart  knowledge  of  science  to  the 
ignorant  must  content  himself  with  statements  of  gen- 
eral  truths  in  plain  though  inexact  language.  Even 
when  he  would  secure  for  himself  or  convey  to  other 
scholars  a clear  idea  of  his  subject  as  a whole,  he  must 
not  make  precision  his  main  object.  What  he  loses 
in  distinctness  he  will  gain  in  breadth  and  clearness  of 
view. 

The  antagonism  between  Precision  and  Perspicuity  is 
Ambiguity  of  coufincd  to  subjects  which  possess  a tech- 
. Ind^of  fam™  Mcal  vocabulary.  All  general  terms  are  sus- 
iar  words.  ceptible  of  a variety  of  significations,  and 
those  most  frequently  employed  are  susceptible  of  the 
greatest  variety.  “ Perhaps,”  says  Sir  George  Cornewall 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


69 


Lewis/  “ there  is  no  moral  or  political  treatise  of  any 
length,  certainly  no  considerable  argumentative  work, 
of  which  the  conclusions  are  not  in  some  degree  affected 
by  an  incautious  employment,  or  an  unperceived  am- 
biguity, of  language.” 

Nature?  liberty?  Church,  State,  temperance,  charity, 
radical,  conservative,  democratic,  republican,  liberal,  honor- 
able, virtuous,  evidence,'^  ought?  ■ right,  wrong,  are  words 
that  mean  to  liardly  any  two  men  exactly  the  same 
tiling.  Even  persons  who  apparently  agree  in  a defini- 
tion attach  different  meanings  to  the  terms  in  which  it 
is  given,  each  interpreting  them  in  conformity  with  his 
personal  opinions. 

“Reflect  how  many  disputes  you  must  have  listened  to  which 
were  interminable  because  neither  party  understood  either  his 
opponent  or  himself.  Consider  the  fortunes  of  an  argument  in  a 
debating  society,  and  the  need  there  so  frequently  is,  not  simply  of 
some  clear  thinker  to  disentangle  the  perplexities  of  thought,  but  of 
capacity  in  the  combatants  to  do  justice  to  the  clearest  explanations 
which  are  set  before  them,  — so  much  so,  that  the  luminous  arbitra- 
tion only  gives  rise,  perhaps,  to  more  hopeless  altercation.  ‘ Is  a 
constitutional  government  better  for  a population  than  an  absolute 
lub?  ’ What  a number  of  points  have  to  be  clearly  apprehended 
before  we  are  in  a position  to  say  one  word  on  such  a question ! 
What  is  meant  by  ‘ constitution?  ’ by  ‘ constitutional  government?  ’ 
by  ‘ better?  ’ by  ‘ a population?  ’ and  by  ‘ absolutism?  ’ The  ideas 
represented  by  these  various  w'ords  ought,  I do  not  say,  to  be 
as  j^ierfectly  defined  and  located®  in  the  minds  of  the  speakers 

1 Introduction  to  Remarks  on  the  Use  and  Abuse  of  Political  Terms,  — a work 
which  affords  numerous  instances  in  point. 

- Mill:  Nature. 

® Ibid.:  Essay  on  Liberty.  Stephen:  Liberty,  Equalitj',  and  Fraternity 
Whately : Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  i.  sect.  iv. 

* Stephen:  Digest  of  the  Law  of  Evidence;  Preface. 

* Ibid. : Liberty,  &c. ; Note  on  Utilitarianism 

® Query  as  to  this  word. 


70 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


as  objects  of  sight  in  a landscape,  but  to  be  sufficiently,  even 
though  incompletely,  apprehended  before  they  have  a right  to 
speak.” ^ 

The  more  familiar  a word,  the  more  diverse  its  uses  are  likely  to 
be,  and  the  gi-eater,  therefore,  the  difficulty  of  making  it  convey 
the  meaning  with  absolute  clearness.  Thus,  in  the  question  sug- 
gested by  Dr.  Newman  in  the  preceding  passage,  “better”  is  the 
term  that  stands  most  in  need  of  definition. 

In  argumentative  composition,  the  words  most  frequently  em- 
ployed, those  which  serve  to  show  the  course  of  tlie  reasoning  and 
the  connections  of  thought — as  hence,  consequently,  then,  therefore, 
because,  accordingly  — are  themselves  equivocal. 

A writer,  however,  who  should  undertake  to  use  no 
Avord  Avhich  he  did  not  precisely  define,  would 

Definitions : , . , „ ...  , , . , , 

whenneees-  be  in  danger  ot  communicating  nothing  but 
definitions  to  his  reader.  The  meaning  of  the 
principal  subject  of  discourse  it  is  usually  desirable  to 
fix ; but  to  take  equal  pains  with  every  term  would  he 
to  sacrifice  the  more  to  the  less  important,  the  whole  to 
a part.  Bewildered  by  the  multiplicity  of  details,  the 
reader  would  grope  through  sentence  after  sentence, 
with  his  mind  fixed  on  the  language  instead  of  being 
borne  along  by  the  thought. 

It  is,  nevertheless,  desirable  to  use  every  Avord  in  the 
same  sense  throughout  a composition.  There  is  little 
risk,  to  be  sure,  of  misunderstanding  the  word  measure 
as  used  in  a book  on  surveying ; but,  in  a discussion  as 
to  the  effect  of  this  or  that  measure  of  legislation  upon 
gold  as  a measure  of  value,  measure  might  he  equivocal. 
Where,  as  in  such  a case,  a term  has  to  do  double  duty, 
the  reader  should  be  apprised  of  the  change  of  meaning 
whenever  it  takes  place ; otherwise,  he  has  a right  to 
presume  that  there  is  no  change  of  meaning. 


1 J.  H.  Newman : Lectures  and  Essa3's  on  University  Subjects,  p.  357. 


Chap.  I.) 


PRraCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


71 


Neglect  of  this  obvious  precaution  against  the  danger 
of  being  misunderstood  leads  to  numerous  Fallacies  of 
Confusion,  — something  which  is  true  in  one  Fallacies  of 
sense  being  reasoned  about  as  if  it  were  true 
in  another  sense  : “ for  the  juggle  of  sophistry  consists, 
for  tlie  greater  part,  in  using  a word  in  one  sense  in  the 
premises,  and  in  another  in  the  conclusion.”  ^ 

“The  mercantile  public  are  frequently  led  into  this  fallacy  by 
the  phrase  ‘scarcity  of  money.’  In  the  language  of  commerce, 
‘money’  has  two  meanings:  currency,  or  the  circulating  medium; 
and  capital  seeking  investment,  especially  investment  on  loan.  In 
this  last  sense,  the  word  is  used  when  the  ‘ money  market  ’ is  spoken 
of,  and  when  the  ‘ value  of  money  ’ is  said  to  be  high  or  low,  the 
rate  of  interest  being  meant.  The  consequence  of  this  ambiguity 
is,  that  as  soon  as  scarcity  of  money  in  the  latter  of  these  senses 
begins  to  be  felt,  — as  soon  as  there  is  difficulty  of  obtaining  loans, 
and  the  rate  of  interest  is  high, — it  is  concluded  that  this  must 
arise  from  causes  acting  upon  the  quantity  of  money  in  the  other 
and  more  popular  sense;  that  the  circulating  medium  must  have 
diminished  in  quantity,  or  ought  to  be  increased.  I am  aware  that, 
independently  of  the  double  meaning  of  the  term,  there  are  in  the 
facts  themselves  some  peculiarities,  giving  an  apparent  support  to 
this  error;  but  the  ambiguity  of  the  language  stands  on  the  vei-y 
threshold  of  the  subject,  and  intercepts  all  attempts  to  throw  light 
upon  it. 

“ Another  word  which  is  often  turned  into  an  instiuiment  of 
the  fallacy  of  ambiguity  is  theory.  In  its  most  proper  acceptation, 
theory  means  the  completed  result  of  philosophical  induction  from 
experience.  In  that  sense,  there  are  erroneous  as  well  as  true  theo- 
ries, for  induction  maybe  incorrectly  performed ; but  theory  of  some 
sort  is  the  necessary  result  of  knowing  any  thing  of  a subject,  and 
having  put  one’s  knowledge  into  the  form  of  general  propositions 
for  the  guidance  of  practice.  In  this,  the  proper  sense  of  the  word, 
theory  is  the  explanation  of  practice.  In  another  and  a more 
vulgar  sense,  theory  means  any  mere  fiction  of  the  imagination, 
endeavoring  - to  conceive  how  a thing  may  possibly  have  been  pro- 

^ Coleridge.  * Query  as  to  these  forms.  See  pp.  101,  42.  43. 


72 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OE  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


duced,  instead  of  examining  how  it  was  produced.  In  this  sense 
only  are  theory  and  theorists  unsafe  guides;  but,  because  of  this, 
ridicule  or  discredit  is  attempted  to  be  attached  to  theory  in  its 
proper  sense,  that  is,  to  legitimate  generalization,  the  end  and  aim 
of  all  philosophy;  and  a conclusion  is  represented  as  worthless,  just 
because  that  has  been  done  which,  if  done  correctly,  constitutes 
the  highest  worth  that  a principle  for  the  guidance  of  practice  can 
possess, — namely,  to  comprehend  in  a few  words  the  real  law  on 
wliich  a phenomenon  depends,  or  some  property  or  relation  which 
is  universally  true  of  it.”  ^ 


Pronouns  are  peculiarly  liable  to  be  used  in  sucb  a 
way  as  to  render  the  meaning  either  obscure 

Obscur©  or 

equivocal  Or -equivocal.  The  signification  of  every  pro- 

pronouns.  . . 

noun  being  determined  by  that  ot  the  word 
for  which  it  stands  or  to  which  it  relates,  clearness 
requires  that  it  should  refer  unmistakably  to  one  and 
to  but  one  antecedent.  A writer  should  repeat  a noun 
rather  than  substitute  for  it  a pronoun  which  fails  to  sug- 
gest that  noun  unmistakably  and  at  once. 


“ I learned  from  Macaulay,  . . . never  to  be  afraid  of  using  the 
same  word  or  name  over  and  over  again,  if  by  that  means  any 
thing  could  be  added  to  clearness  or  force.  Macaulay  never  goes 
on,  like  some  writers,  talking  about  ‘ the  former  ’ and  ‘ the  latter,’ 
‘ he,  she,  it,  they,’  through  clause  after  clause,  while  his  reader 
has  to  look  back  to  see  which  of  several  persons  it  is  that  is  so 
darkly  referred  to.  No  doubt  a pronoun,  like  any  other  word,  may 
often  be  repeated  with  advantage,  if  it  is  perfectly  clear  who  is 
meant  by  the  pronoun.  And  with  Macaulay’s  pronouns,  it  is  always 
perfectly  clear  who  is  meant  by  them.”  ^ 


No  fault  is  more  common  than  the  obscure  or  ambigu- 
ous use  of  a pronoun.  For  example  : — 

“ A tremendous  fall  of  snow  rendered  his  departure  impossible 
for  more  than  ten  days.  When  the  roads  began  to  become  a little 


1 Mill : Logic,  book  v.  chap.  vii.  See  also  pp.  107,  217. 

2 E.  A.  Freeman,  in  The  International  Review. 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


73 


practicable,^  they  successively  received  news  of  the  retreat  of  the 
Chevalier  into  Scotland.”  ^ 

“ F/icy  were  persons  of  such  moderate  intellects,  even  before  they 
were  impaired  by  their  passion,  that  their  irregularities  could  not 
furnish  sufficient  variety  of  folly.”  ® 

“ JVe  [the  writer]  will  now  proceed  to  inquire  how  2ce  [men  in 
general]  first  arrive  at  such  notions.”^ 

“ It  was  the  loss  of  his  son  on  whom  he  had  looked  with  an  affec- 
tion tvhich  belonged  to  his  character,  with  an  exaggerated  admiration 
iL'hich  was  a most  pardonable  exercise  of  his  fancy  tchich  struck  the 
fatal  blow  to  his  spirit  as  well  as  to  his  body.”  ^ 

“ Eas.selas  was  the  fourth  son  of  the  mighty  emperor  in  ichose 
dominions  the  Father  of  Waters  begins  his  course;  whose  bounty 
pours  down  the  streams  of  plenty,  and  scatters  over  half  the  world 
the  harvests  of  Egypt.  ” ® 

“ No  semblance  of  a slip  occurred  in  the  case  of  any  one  of  us, 
and  had  it  occurred  I do  not  think  the  worst  consequences  could 
have  been  avoided.”  ’’ 

“ Sir  Samuel  Baker  made  a long  halt  at  Gondokoro,  in  the 
country  of  the  Baris,  a race  whom  his  utmost  forbearance  and 
tact  were  utterly  powerless  to  propitiate.  It  was  living  on  pins 
and  needles,  but  every  one,  on  the  whole,  seems  to  have  done 
his  duty;  and  the  Baris,  in  their  thousands,  were  at  last  soundly 
thrashed  by  the  English  Pasha  and  his  handful.  It  was  lit- 
erally a handful,  for  the  force  had  been  seriously  reduced  by 
death,  desertion,  massacre,  and  dispersion  on  other  errands.  The 
bulk  of  the  original  troops  were  very  reluctant  philanthropists, 
and  had  to  be  vigorously  weeded  and  sifted,®  so  that  the  tough- 
est work  was  performed  by  a handful  of  seasoned  and  tested 
men.”  ® 

“ The  present  business  of  these  pages  is  with  the  dragon  who 

1 Sec  p.  D5. 

2 Scott : Wavevlcy,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xxiv. 

3 Steele : The  Spectator,  No.  30. 

* Bain:  Rhetoric,  part  i.  cliap.  iv. 

3 F.  D.  Maurice : The  Friendsliip  of  Books  and  Other  Lectures,  lect.  xi. 

6 Johnson;  Ra.sselas,  chap.  i. 

t John  Tyndall:  Hours  of  Exercise  in  the  Alps,  sect.  xxiv. 

® Query  as  to  the  metaphor.  See  p.  90. 

9 American  newspaper. 


74 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


had  his  retreat  in  Mr.  Pecksniff’s  neighborhood ; and  that  courteous 
animal  being  affeady  on  the  carpet,  there  is  nothing  in  the  way  of 
its  immediate  transaction.”  ^ 

“This  doctrine  sounds  well;  and  for  the  next  twenty  years  it 
blinded  a large  portion  of  the  world  to  the  real  cause  of  the  failure 
of  the  Revolution  of  July  in  France.  It  was  believed  that  it  had 
failed  because  it  had  been  defeated,  whereas  it  failed  because  it  had 
conquered.  Never  was  revolution  so  quickly  decided;  never  was 
a new  government  installed  in  power  so  completely  in  accordance 
with  the  general  voice;  never  was  one  more  cordially  supported, 
when  in  possession  of  it,  by  the  moral  and  physical  strength  of  tlie 
party  which  had  proved  victorious  in  the  strife.  It  doubled  the 
number  of  electors,  and  intrusted  the  suffrage  to  one  hundred  and 
eighty  thousand  electors,  — nearly  as  many  as  were  qualified  to 
exercise  it  in  a country  where  not  one  in  ten  in  the  entire  popula- 
tion could  read;  and  they  returned  a Chamber  with  a majority  of 
four  to  one  in  favor  of  the  government.  It  raised  the  army  above 
three  hundred  thousand  combatants,  and  it  on  nearly  every  occasion 
remained  faithful  to  its  oaths  when  the  hour  of  trial  arrived.  It  put 
arms  into  the  hands  of  a million  of  national  guards,  who  elected 
their  own  officers,  and  the  majority  of  them  supported  the  Crown. 
This  is  decisive.  When  so  large  a part  of  the  population,  capable 
of  bearing  arms,  is  in  this  manner  organized  in  armed  bands,  under 
officers  of  their  own  selection,  it  is  in  vain  to  assert  that  the  govern- 
ment they  support  is  not  that  which,  upon  the  whole,  is  consistent 
with  the  national  voice,  how  obnoxious  soever  it  may  be  to  certain 
fractions  of  it.”  ^ 

According  to  some  writers,  perspicuity  prefers  words 
The  etymoiocu-  derived  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  ® to  those  that 
cal  theory,  gome  from  the  Latin  or  the  French.  What- 
ever the  theoretical  soundness  of  this  principle,  it  can 
be  of  little  practical  use  to  a writer.  On  the  one  hand, 
the  authors  most  frequently  cited  in  its  support  chose 
words,  not  because  they  had  this  or  that  history,  but 


’ Dickens:  Martin  Chuzzlewit, chap. iii.  See  also  pp.  96, 97, 137, IGO. 
2 Alison : History  of  Europe  from  the  Fall  of  Napoleon,  chap.  x.xx. 

^ This  word  is  used  for  convenience,  not  in  the  service  of  a theory. 


Chap.  I.] 


rRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


75 


because  they  served  the  purpose  in  view ; ^ on  the  other 
hand,  the  works  of  some  of  the  most  ardent  champions 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  abound  in  words  from  the  Latin. ^ 
The  particles,  the  connectives,  the  auxiliary  verbs,  the 
grammatical  links  of  every  sentence,  — the  words,  in 
short,  as  to  which  there  is  no  room  for  choice,  — are, 
it  is  true,  almost  all  of  Saxon  origin.  So  are  the  names 
of  many  of  the  things  necessary  to  existence,  or  falling 
within  universal  experience.  As  the  simplest 
feelings  may  express  themselves  better  by  a words  as 

, -1.1  affected  by 

gesture  or  an  exclamation  than  in  eloquent  subject  and 

^ purpose. 

periods,  so  will  talk  about  ordinary  things  be 
most  readily  understood,  if  all  the  words  used  are  so 
familiar  as  to  be  almost  identified  in  the  mind  with 
the  things  they  signify ; and  such  words  are,  for  the 
most  part,  Anglo-Saxon. 

Gestures  and  exclamations  are,  however,  far  from 
answering  all  jiurposes. 

“ ‘ You  can  say  any  thing  in  it  ’ [pantomime],  cried  Inez. 

“‘I  don’t  see  that,’  said  Eunice.  ‘You  can  say  any  thing  a 
savage  wants  to  say.’ 

“ ‘ You  cannot  say  the  Declaration  of  Independence,’  said  Harold. 

“ ‘ Nor  the  Elegy  in  a Country  Churchyard,’  said  Nolan.”  * 

Nor  can  the  “ lower  classes  ” of  words,  so  to  speak, 
perform  the  highest  work.  A complex  feeling  requires 
complex  means  of  expression,  and  a writer  who  mounts 
into  the  region  of  ideas  must  use  words  adapted  to  the 
communication  of  ideas,  — words  of  tvhich  a large  pro- 
{lortion  come,  directly  or  indirectly,  from  the  Latin  or 
the  Greek.  To  see  that  this  is  so,  one  has  only  to 


1 Daniel  Webster,  for  instance. 

* Herbert  Spencer,  for  instance. 

* E.  E.  Hale : Philip  Nolan’s  Friends,  p.  73. 
4* 


76 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


compare  a paragraph  from  Bun3’an  with  one  from 
Burke,  or  a poem  by  Scott  with  one  by  IMilton  or 
V/  ordsworth. 

This  difference  iMi-.  Marsh  has  clearly  brought  out  by  print- 
ing in  italics  the  foreign  words  in  two  passages  from  Irving:  the 
first  from  The  Stout  Gentleman,  in  Bracebridge  Hall;  the  second 
from  Westminster  Abbey,  in  the  Sketch  Book:  — 

“ ‘ In  one  corner  was  a stagnant  pool  of  water  surrounding  an 
island  of  muck;  there  were  several  half-drowned  fowls  crowded 
together  under  a cart,  among  which  was  a miserable  crest-fallen 
cock,  drenched  out  of  all  life  and  spirit ; his  drooping  tail  matted, 
as  it  were,  into  a single  feather,  along  which  the  water  trickled 
from  his  back;  near  the  cart  was  a half-dozing  cow,  chewing  the 
cud,  and  standing  patiently  to  be  rained  on,  with  wreaths  of  vapour 
rising  from  her  reeking  hide;  a wall-eyed  horse,  tired  of  the  lone- 
liness of  the  stable,  was  poking  his  spectral  head  out  of  a window, 
with  the  rain  dripping  on  it  from  the  eaves;  an  unhappy  cur, 
chained  to  a dog-house  hard  by,  uttered  something  every  now  and 
then  between  a bark  and  a yelp  ; a drab  of  a kitchen-wench  tram- 
pled backwards  and  forwards  through  the  yard  in  pattens,  looking 
as  sulky  as  the  weather  itself;  every  thing,  in  short,  was  comfortless 
and  forlorn,  excepting  a crew  of  hard-drinking  ducks,  assembled  like 
boon  companions  round  a puddle,  and  making  a riotous  noise  over 
their  liquor. ’’ 

“ ‘It  w’as  the  tomb  of  a crusader ; of  one  of  those  military  enthusi- 
asts, who  so  strangely  mingled  religion  and  romance,  and  whose 
exploits  form  the  connecting  link  between  fact  and  fiction,  between 
the  history  and  the  fairy  tale.  There  is  something  extremely  pictur- 
esque in  the  tombs  of  these  adventurers,  decorated  as  they  are  with 
rude  armorial  bearings  and  Gothic  sculpture.  They  comqiort  with 
the  antiquated  chapels  in  which  they  are  generally  found;  and  in  con- 
sidering them,  the  imagination  is  apt  to  kindle  with  the  legendary 
associations,  the  romantic  fiction,  the  chivalrous  pomp  and  pageantry 
which  poetry  has  spread  over  the  wars  for  the  sepulchre  of  Christ.' 

“ In  the  first  of  these  extracts,  out  of  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
nine  words,  all  but  twenty-two  are  probably  native,  the  proportions 
being  respectively  eighty-nine  and  eleven  per  cent;  in  the  second, 
which  con.sists  of  one  hundred  and  six  words,  we  find  no  less  than 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OP  CHOICE. 


77 


forty  aliens,  -which  is  proportionally  more  than  three  times  as  many 
as  in  the  first.”  ^ 

The  associations  with  the  words  emplo3'ed  in  the  first  of  these 
citations  are,  it  will  be  observed,  entirely  different  from  those  called 
up  by  the  second. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  an  entire  change  of  feeling  may  be  pro- 
duced by  the  substitution  of  a single  Saxon  word  for  a Latin  one. 
Change  “ The  Ancient  Mariner  ” to  “ The  Old  Sailor,”  and  j-ou 
throw  the  mind  into  a mood  utterly  inharmonious  with  the  tone  of 
Coleridge’s  wonderful  poem.  Substitute  “ what  goes  to  make  up 
a State”  for  Sir  William  Jones’s  “ what  constitutes  a State,”  and 
you  not  only  destroy  the  force  of  the  associations  with  “consti- 
tutes,” but  also  render  the  meaning  somewhat  obscure. 

Another  illustration  maybe  taken  from  Disraeli’s  “ Coningsby.”  * 
The  question  was  of  “ A Conservative  Cry  ” for  the  election  of  1837. 

“ Tadpole  took  the  paper  and  read,  ‘ Our  young  Queen  and  our 
old  Institutions.’  The  eyes  of  Tadpole  sparkled  as  if  they  had  met 
a gnomic  sentence  of  Periander  or  Thales;  then  turning  to  Taper 
he  said,  ‘ What  do  j’ou  think  of  “ ancient  ” instead  of  “ old  ” ? ’ 

“ ‘ You  cannot  have  “ Our  modern  Queen  and  our  ancient  Insti- 
tutions,” ’ said  Mr.  Taper.” 

Another  difficulty  with  the  etymological  standard  lies 
in  the  fact  that,  with  the  increasing  demands  of  civiliza- 
tion for  increased  facilities  of  expression,  words  which 
were  once  synon3'mes  have  been  assigned  separate  mean- 
ings. Sometimes  two  nouns  that  originally  -vYor.igonce 
signified  the  same  thing  have  come  to  be  em- 
ploj^ed  in  different  senses:  ship  and  nave; 
bloody  and  sanguine  ; body  and  corpse  ; foot  and  pedal; 
handy  and  manual;  sheep  and  mutton;  feather  and 
plume;  love  ixnd  charity;  shepherd  and  Some- 

times one  language  furnisbes  the  noun,  another  the 
adjective:  ivord  and  verbal;  mouth  and  oral;  ship  and 
naval ; tooth  and  dental ; body  and  corporal. 

1 JIarsh : English  Language,  lect.  vi.  2 Book  v.  chap.  ii. 

8 Pastoral  is,  however,  still  used  in  both  the  literal  and  the  figurative  sense. 


78 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OE  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


It  is  also  true  that,  as  civilization  has  advanced,  terms 
once  confined  to  a class  have  become  common  property. 
Civilization  itself  is  an  instance  in  point.  Religion,  poli- 
tics, science,  art,  clergyman,  member  of  Congress,  chemist, 
musician,  — these  are  samples  of  large  vocabularies  of 
words  which,  though  they  came  from  the  ancient  lan- 
guages, are  generally  understood. 

Whatever  the  language  might  have  been  but  for  the 

Engiisii  a Normaii  Conquest,  it  is  now  a composite  lan- 

composite  ....  , . « . 

language,  guage,  in  wliicli  every  part  has  its  lunction, 
every  word  in  good  use  its  reason  for  existence. 

“ ‘ I would  gladly  see  our  language  enriched  as  far  as  it  can  be 
without  depraving  it.  At  present  [in  the  last  century]  we  recur  to 
the  Latin  and  reject  the  Saxon,  thus  strengthening  our  language 
just  as  our  empire  is  strengthened  by  severing  from  it  the  most 
flourishing  of  its  provinces.  In  another  age,  we  may  cut  down  the 
branches  of  Latin  to  admit  the  Saxon  to  shoot  up  again ; for  oppo- 
sites come  perpetually  round.  But  it  would  be  folly  to  throw  away 
a current  and  commodious  piece  of  money  because  of  the  stamp 
upon  it,  or  to  refuse  an  accession  to  an  estate  because  our  grand- 
father could  do  without  it.  A book  composed  of  merely  Saxon 
words  (if  such  a thing  could  be)  would  only  prove  the  perverseness 
of  the  author.  It  would  be  inelegant,  inharmonious,  and  deficient 
in  the  power  of  conveying  thoughts  and  images,  of  which,  indeed, 
such  a writer  could  have  but  extremely  few  at  starting.  Let  the 
Saxon,  however,  be  always  the  ground-work.’  ” ^ 

Many  of  those  who  condemn  the  employment  of  Latin 
» , . instead  of  Saxon  words  have  in  mind  the 

Sng'io-saxon  pemicious  practice  of  using  long  and  unfa- 
theory.  miliar  expressions  instead  of  shoi’t  and  plain 
ones.  Exception  is  taken,  not  to  their  conclusion,  but 
to  their  etymological  arguments.  It  is  true  that  “ those 
strong  plain  words,  Anglo-Saxon  or  Norman-French,  of 

* Landor ; Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  177  (by  the  mouth  of  Horne  Tooke). 


Chap.  I ] 


PRINCIPLES  OF.  CHOICE. 


79 


which  the  roots  lie  in  the  inmost  depths  of  our  lan- 
guage,” ^ are  preferable  to  weak,  long,  pedantic  ones ; 
but  to  give  prominence  to  the  etymological  fact  is  to  sub- 
stitute an  obscure  for  an  obvious  ground  of  preference. 

It  is,  certainly,  incumbent  on  him  who  would  write 
well  to  avoid  fine  writing  ; that  is,  writing  to 
display  his  verbal  wardrobe.  “ As  in  dress,  ity  of^He 
furniture,  deportment,  &c.,  so  also  in  lan- 
guage : the  dread  of  vulgarity  constantly  besetting  those 
who  are  half-conscious  that  they  are  in  danger  of  it 
drives  them  into  the  extreme  of  affected  finery,”  ^ — an 
extreme  which  is  as  objectionable  in  point  of  taste  ^ as 
in  point  of  perspicuity.  Tlie  evil  thus  characterized  by 
Archbishop  Whately  has  increased  during  the  forty  years 
that  have  elapsed  since  he  wrote,  till  now  it  infests  the 
newspapers,  magazines,  and  novels  of  the  day,  being,  of 
course,  at  its  worst  in  the  least  reputable  quarters. 

In  fine  writing  every  clapping  of  hands  is  an  “ ovation,”  every 
fortune  “colossal,”  every  marriage  an  “alliance,”  every  crowd 
“ a sea  of  faces.”  A hair-dresser  becomes  a “tonsorial  artist;” 
an  apple-stand,  a “bureau  of  Pomona;”  an  old  carpenter,  a “gen- 
tleman long  identified  with  the  building  interest.”  A man  does 
not  breakfast,  but  he  “discusses  (or  “ partakes  of”)  the  morning 
repast;”  he  does  not  sit  down  at  table,  but  he  “repairs  to  tho 
festive  board;”  he  does  not  go  home,  but  he  “proceeds  to  his 
residence;”  he  does  not  go  to  bed,  but  he  “retires  to  his  downy 
couch;  ” he  sits,  not  for  his  portrait,  but  for  his  “ counterfeit  pre- 
sentment;” he  no  longer  waltzes,  but  he  “participates  in  round 
dances;”  he  is  not  thanked,  but  he  is  “the  recipient  of  grateful 
acknowdedgments.”  A house  is  not  building,  but  is  “in  process 
of  erection;”  it  is  not  all  burned  down,  but  is  “ destroj’ed  in  its 
entirety  by  the  devouring  element.”  A ship  is  not  launched,  but  it 
“ glides  into  its  native^  element.”  "When  a man  narrowly  escapes 

1 Macaulay:  Essay  on  Boswell’s  Johnson. 

2 Whately : Elements  of  Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  i.  sect.  ii. 

8 See  p.  100.  ^ Why  “native”  '? 


80 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  IL 


drowning,  “ the  waves  are  balked  of  their  prey.”  Not  only  presi- 
dents, but  aqueducts,  millinery  shops,  and  railroad  strikes  are  “in- 
augurated.” We  no  longer  threaten,  but  we  “ indulge  in  minatory 
expressions.”  IModest  “ 1 ” has  given  place  to  pompous  “ we.” 

With  her  usual  skill,  George  Eliot  has  touched  this  common 
fault  in  a dialogue  between  hirs.  Vincy  and  Rosamond:^  — 

“ ‘ But  I shall  not  marry  any  IMiddlemarch  young  man.’ 

“ ‘ So  it  seems,  my  love,  for  you  have  as  good  as  refused  the 
jiick  of  them;  and,  if  there ’s  better  to  be  had,  I ’m  sure  there ’s 
no  girl  better  deserves  it.’ 

“ ‘ Excuse  me,  mamma.  I wish  you  would  not  say  “ the  pick 
of  them.”  ’ 

“ ‘ AVhy,  what  else  are  they?  ’ 

“ ‘ I mean,  mamma,  it  is  rather  a vulgar  expression.’ 

“ ‘ Very  likely,  my  dear.  I never  was  a good  speaker.  AVhat 
should  I say?  ’ 

“ ‘ The  best  of  them.’ 

“ ‘ “Why,  that  seems  just  as  plain  and  common.  If  I had  had 
time  to  think,  I should  have  said  “ the  most  superior  young  men.”  ’ ” 

This  vulgar  finery  is  so  much  worn  in  the  pulpit  as  to  render 
plain  language  there  offensive.  An  American  clergyman  was  sub- 
jected to  severe  censure  for  using  the  word  “ beans  ” in  a sermon; 
and  a recent  English  magazine ^ relates  a similar  incident:  — 

“ I remember  quite®  a sensation  running  through  a congregation 
when  a preacher,  one  evening,  instead  of  talking  about  ‘ habits  of 
cleanliness  ’ and  the  ‘ necessity  of  regular  ablution,’  remarked  that 
‘ plenty  of  soap  and  water  had  a healthy  bracing  effect  upon  the 
body,  and  so  indirectly  benefited  the  mind.’  ” 

A potent  cause  of  the  preference  for  fine  over  simple 
“ numorous  ” is  the  desire  to  be  witty  or  liumor- 

fine  writing.  disposition,  Dickens  is  in  a 

great  measure  responsible.  Inimitable  in  his  best,  he 
can  be  rivalled  in  his  worst ; as  : — 

“The  Chuzzlewit  family  was  in  the  very  earliest  times  closdy 
connected  with  the  agricidtural  interest.’’’  * 


1 Middlemarch,  book  i.  chap.  xi. 
® See  p.  57. 


2 Macmillan’s  Magazine.  (1876.  > 
* Martin  Chuzzlewit,  chap.  i. 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


81 


“ ‘ The  domestic  assistants, ’ said  Mr.  Pecksniff,  ‘ sleep  above.’  ” ^ 

“ ‘I  have  heard  it  said,’  returned  Mr.  George,  ‘ that  a cat  may 
contemplate  a monarch.'  ” ^ 

“It  [Pecksniff’s  eye]  had  been  piteously  upraised,  with  some- 
thing of  that  expression  which  the  poetry  of  ages  has  attributed  to 
a domestic  bird,  ichen  breathing  its  last  amid  the  ravages  of  an  electric 
storm."  1 

One  form  of  fine  writing  is  the  designation  of  a spe- 
cific object  by  a general  term  which  seems  Qe^grai  or 
to  magnify  its  proportions,  but  which  really  spcciuc  terms, 
destroys  its  individuality,  and  thus  renders  it  less  dis- 
tinct as  well  as  less  vivid.  There  is  an  analogy  between 
the  effect  on  the  mind  of  general  terms  as  compared  with 
specific  ones,  and  that  produced  on  tlie  eye  by  objects 
according  as  they  are  more  or  less  distant. 

Some  rhetoricians  ^ maintain  that  the  idea  conveyed 
by  the  most  general  term,  or  the  picture  made  by  the 
most  distant  object,  though  far  less  vivid  than  that 
produced  by  an  individual  term  or  a near  object,  is 
equally  clear  as  far  as  it  goes.  Everybody  is,  how- 
ever, in  the  habit  of  saying  that  he  cannot  “ clearly 
make  out  ” a distant  object,  — a remark  implying  that 
what  is  seen  raises  questions  which  cannot  be  answered 
until  one  approaches  the  object ; in  like  manner,  a 
general  term  suggests  questions  which  only  specific 
knowledge  can  answer.  The  statement  that  Major 
Andre  was  executed  is  clear  as  to  the  fact  that  he 
suffered  death,  but  is  not  clear  as  to  the  manner  of 
his  death  ; the  statement  that  he  Avas  executed  as  a 
spy  is  clear  to  those  only  who  know  the  laws  of  war ; 
the  statement  that  he  Avas  hanged  is  perfectly  clear  to 

1 Martin  Chuzzlcwit,  chaps,  iv.,  v.  See  also  pp.  100,  113,  114. 

2 AA^hately : Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  i.  Campbell : Rhetoric,  book  iii. 
chap.  i.  sect.  i. 


82 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


everybody  who  knows  what  hanging  is.  If  we  hear  that 
a friend  has  met  with  “ a piece  of  good  fortune,”  we  are 
in  the  dark  as  to  its  nature  until  we  have  clearer,  because 
more  specific,  information.  When  the  report  came  (in 
1876)  that  “the  Turkish  troops  committed  many  atroci- 
ties in  Bulgaria,”  people  either  dismissed  it  as  too  vague 
to  mean  any  thing,  or  thought,  some  of  one,  some  of  an- 
other, kind  of  atrocity  ; but  when  the  details  came  to  hand, 
when  people  read  that  fifty  cities  had  been  burned  and 
ten  thousand  old  men  and  children  put  to  the  sword,  they 
began  to  understand  what  the  Turks  had  been  doing. 

When,  on  the  other  hand,  a person  does  not  wish  to 
be  clear,  he  makes  use  of  terms  more  general  than  the 
facts  warrant.  The  process  of  “ breaking  bad  news”  to 
one  who  is  likely  to  be  dangerously  affected  by  too  sud- 
den a knowledge  of  the  truth,  depends  for  its  efiEicacy 
upon  the  obscurity  of  the  general  terms  with  which  the 
painful  subject  is  introduced,  and  upon  the  gradual 
clearing  up  of  that  obscurity  by  the  use  of  more  and 
more  specific  terms,  until  the  individual  fact  can  be 
safely  announced.  These  precautions  would  be  useless 
if  the  general  statement  told  the  story  clearly.^ 

Instances  of  the  superior  value  of  individual  or  specific  terms, 
as  compared  with  general  ones,  abound  in  good  writers.  For 
example : — 

Burly,  dozing  humble  bee, 

Where  thou  art  is  clime  for  me.”  2 

“ . . . Him  there  they  found 
Squat  like  a toad,  close  at  the  ear  of  Eva. 

Him  thus  intent  Ithuriel  with  his  spear 
Touch'd  lightly ; . . . 

Up  he  starts, 

Discover’d  and  surprised.  As  when  a sparJs 
Lights  on  a heap  of  nitrous  powder.”  3 

t For  an  admirable  example,  see  Shakspere  h Macbeth,  act  iv.  scene  iii. 

2 Emerson : Poems.  3 Milton : Paradise  Lost,  book  iv.  1.  800-816. 


CUAP.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


83 


“ The  long  light  shakes  across  the  lakes 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory."  i 

“ Up  from  my  cabin, 

My  sea-gown  scarf'd  about  me,  in  the  dark 
Groped  I to  find  out  them:  had  my  desire; 

Finger'd  their  packet ; and,  in  fine,  withdrew 
To  mine  own  room  again ; making  so  bold. 

My  fears  forgetting  manners,  to  unseal 
Their  grand  commission.”  ^ 

Euphemisms  often  spring  from  the  desire  to  veil  an 
unpleasant  fact  under  words  that  do  not 
clearly  individualize  it.  Hence,  the  use  of 
cemetery  for  “graveyard,”  casket  for  “coffin,”  passing 
away  for  “ dying,”  irregularities  for  “forgeries,”^  a deli- 
cate transaction  for  “a  questionable  act,”  bad  habits  or 
disorderly  conduct  for  “ drunkenness,”  road  agents  for 
“ highway  robbers,”  sample-room.,  to  designate  a place 
Avhere  wines  and  liquors  are  sold  by  the  glass.  Hence, 
all  the  unnecessarily  general  expressions  used  by  well- 
bred  or  by  ill-bred  people,  by  the  criminal  who  would 
rather  not  call  his  crime  by  its  name,  or  by  the  preacher 
who,  with  his  mind  on  an  individual  sinner,  lashes  vice 
in  the  abstract. 

It  will  generally  be  found  that  the  more  specific  a 
word,  tlie  less  likely  it  is  to  be  bookish.  In  Bookish 
a real  exigency,  everybody  grasps  at  the 
word  that  points  to  the  individual  person  or  thing  he  is 
speaking  of ; and  the  greater  his  interest,  the  greater  the 
probability  that  the  word  he  uses  will  exactly  express 
his  meaning.  People  that  “ talk  like  a book,”  on  the 
other  hand,  are  apt  to  use  words  which  belong  to  books 
rather  than  to  life,  and  Avhich  too  often  are  unneces- 
sarily abstract  and  general. 

' Tennyson:  Song,  in  The  Princess.  ^ Shakspcrc:  Hamlet,  act  v.  scene  iL 

^ So  too  misappropnation  of  property  for  “ cmbezzleiriCnt.” 


84 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WOKDS. 


[Book  II, 


Not  that  general  terms  should  he  discarded  either  from 
conversation  or  from  print.  They  are,  on  the  contrary, 
indispensable  to  a language  which  does  any  but  the 
omceofgen-  lowcst  woi’k  of  language.  Answering  to  no 
erai  terms,  thing  in  particular,  they  sum  up,  in  a 

convenient,  short-hand  formula,  the  characteristics  of  a 
number  of  things.  If,  having' no  class  names,  we  were 
obliged  to  enumerate  the  members  of  every  class  we 
mentioned,  — if,  instead  of  literature^  we  were  obliged 
to  repeat  a catalogue  of  the  books  that  form  literature ; 
or,  instead  of  nation^  to  say  Russians,  Austrians,  &c.,  — 
we  should  never  have  -clone ; we  should  be  making 
catalogues  all  the  time.  Progress  would,  moreover,  be 
impossible;  for  knowledge  of  what  has  already  been 
achieved  is  essential  to  progress,  and  without  general 
terms  no  convenient  record  of  such  knoAvledge  could  be 
kept. 

• So  far  as  clearness  is  concerned,  the  only  practical 
rule  that  can  be  given  is  to  use  particular  terms  when 
writing  about  particular  objects,  and  general  terms  when 
writing  about  a class.  Applying  this  rule  to  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  composition,  we  shall  find,  as  we  should 
expect,  a larger  proportion  of  general  terms  in  philo- 
sophical than  in  historical  or  dramatic  works,  in  Mil- 
ton  than  in  Shakspere. 

SECTION  II. 

Force. 

In  some  kinds  of  composition  the  requirements  of 
Rlietoric  are  fulfilled  if  the  language  is  clear.  Such 
are  judicial  opinions,  expositions  of  doctrine,  chroni- 
cles of  events,  text-books  of  science,  — all  writings,  in 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OE  CHOICE. 


85 


short,  of  which  the  sole  purpose  is  to  convey  infor- 
mation or  impart  instruction.  The  communication  of 
knowledge  to  attentive  eyes  being  a writer’s  ultimate 
aim,  he  has  done  his  whole  work  if  he  has  rendered 
the  medium  of  communication  as  nearly  transparent  as 
possible. 

If,  however,  the  communication  of  knowledge  is  not 
the  ultimate  aim,  or  if  the  reader’s  attention 
cannot  be  taken  for  granted,  the  language  ami  value  of 

(_)rcc» 

should  be  not  only  clear  but  effective  for  the 
purpose  in  hand.  A man  wliose  eyes  are  shut,  or 
are  turned  away  from  an  object,  will  not  see  that 
object,  however  clear  the  atmosphere ; he  must  be 
made  to  open  his  eyes  and  to  turn  them  in  the  de- 
sired direction.  Another  man  may  take  little  inter- 
est in  what  he  sees ; he  knows,  but  does  not  feel, 
and  Avill  not  act,  until  his  sympathies  have  been 
awakened,  his  imagination  set  to  work,  or  his  passions 
aroused. 

This  quality,  or  rather  this  group  of  the  qualities 
that  give  efficiency  to  communication  by  language,  is 
known  under  various  names.  Dr.  Campbell  calls  it 
Vivacity  ; Dr.  Whately,  Energy  Prof.  Bain,  Strength: 
but  a style  may  be  vivacious  without  being  energetic, 
or  energetic  without  being  strong.  Force  covers  the 
ground  more  satisfactorily,  perhaps,  than  any  other 
single  term. 

Proceeding  to  inquire  hoAV  to  clioose  Avords  which 
Avill  give  Force  to  language,  AA'e  perceive,  in  the  first 
place,  that  many  of  the  principles  of  selection  Avhich 
render  language  clear  also  render  it  forcible.  The  uni- 
vocal, brief,  specific,  and  familiar  Avord  will,  in  the  great 

1 Ari.<tolle’s  ’Evcpyeio. 


86 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


majority  of  cases,  be  the  forcible  word  ; for,  though  men 
may  admire  language  they  do  not  understand,  they  will 
not  be  influenced  by  it. 

Two  expressions  equally  perspicuous  are  not,  how- 
A clear  evci’,  in  all  cases  equally  forcible.  If,  for 
notahvays  exaiuplo,  a Writer  Avishes  to  say  something 
forcible.  about  a class  of  objects,  he  Avill  be  as  Avell 
understood  if  he  enumerates  them  as  if  he  selects  a 
single  object  as  a sample  of  the  class ; but  the  latter 
course  will  be  the  more  likely  to  arrest  attention.  For 
example : — 

“ ‘ Consider  the  lilies  how  they  grow;  they  toil  not,  they  spin 
not;  and  yet  1 say  unto  you,  that  Solomon  in  all  his  glory 
was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these.  If  then  God  so  clothe  the 
grass,  which  is  to-day  in  the  field,  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into 
the  oven,  how  much  more  will  he  clothe  you,  0 ye  of  little 
faith  ! ’ 1 

“ Let  us  here  adopt  a little  of  the  tasteless  manner  of  modern 
paraphrasts  by  the  substitution  of  more  general  terms,  one  of  their 
many  expedients  of  infrigidating,  and  let  us  observe  the  effect 
produced  by  this  change.  ‘ Consider  the  flowers,  how  they  gradu- 
ally increase  in  their  size ; they  do  no  manner  of  work,  and  yet  I 
declare  to  you  that  no  king  whatever,  in  his  most  splendid  habit, 
is  dressed  up  like  them.  If,  then,  God  in  his  providence  doth  so 
adorn  the  vegetable  productions,  which  continue  but  a little  time 
on  the  land,  and  are  afterwards  put  into  the  fire,  how  much  more 
will  he  provide  clothing  for  you!  ’ ” ^ 

In  the  paraphrase,  the  thought  is  expressed  as  clearly  as  in  the 
original,  and  more  exactly;  but  the  comparison,  in  the  original, 
between  a common  flower  and  the  most  magnificent  of  kings 
is  much  more  impressive  than  any  general  statement  can  be ; and 
the  mind,  wdthout  conscious  exertion,  understands  that  what  is 
ti  ue  of  the  lily  as  compared  with  Solomon  is  true  of  aU  flowers  as 
compared  with  all  men. 

1 St.  Luke,  chap.  xii.  verses  27,  28. 

2 Campbell : Rhetoric,  bock  iii.  chap.  i.  sect.  i. 


CuAr.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


87 


The  same  point  is  illustrated  by  the  contrast  between  the  follow- 
ing passages : — 


“ In  large  bodies,  the  circu- 
lation of  power  must  be  less 
vigorous  at  the  extremities. 
Nature  has  said  it.  The  Turk 
cannot  govern  .^Egypt  and  Ara- 
bia and  Curdistan  as  he  gov- 
erns Thrace;  nor  has  he  the 
same  dominion  in  Crimea  and 
Algiers  which  he  has  at  Brusa 
and  Smyrna.  Despotism  itself 
is  obliged  to  truck  and  huckster. 
The  Sultan  gets  such  obedience 
as  he  can.  lie  governs  with  a 
loose  rein,  that  he  may  govern 
at  all;  and  the  whole  of  the 
force  and  vigor  of  his  authority 
in  his  centre  is  derived  from  a 
prudent  relaxation  in  all  his 
borders.”  (Burke’s  Speech  on 
Conciliation  wdth  America.) 


“ In  all  the  despotisms  of  the 
East,  it  has  been  observed  that 
the  further  any  part  of  the  em- 
pire is  removed  from  the  capi- 
tal the  more  do  its  inhabitants 
enjoy  some  sort  of  rights  and 
privileges,  the  more  ineffica- 
cious is  the  pow'er  of  the  mon- 
arch, and  the  more  feeble  and 
easily  decayed  is  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  government,  &c.” 
(Brougham’s  Inquiry  into  the 
Colonial  Policy  of  the  European 
Powers.)  1 


The  substitution  of  a less  general  for  a more  general 
term  is  the  simplest  kind  of  trope  ^ or  figure  Tropes 
of  speech,  the  word  being  turned‘s  from  its 
usual  meaning,  and  employed  in  a figurative^  as  distin- 
guished from  a literal,  sense. 

In  another  class  of  the  tropes  which  invigorate  expres- 
sion, a part  is  made  to  represent  the  whole ; a species, 
the  genus;  an  individual,  the  species;  the  abstract,  the 
concrete  ; or  vice  versa,  — the  figure  in  all  these  synecdoche 
cases  being  that  which  is  called  synecdoche  ^ metonymy. 


’ Burke ; Select  Works  (Clarendon  Press  Series) ; Introduction. 

^ TpoTTo?,  from  Tpt-Tro),  turn. 

’ From  aiv,  together  with,  and  iKtixofiai,  take  or  understand  in  a cer 
tain  sense. 


88 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Cook  II. 


in  the  old  books  : or  the  cause  is  put  for  the  effect,  the 
sign  for  the  thing  signified,  an  adjunct  for  the  principal, 
an  instrument  for  the  agent,  or  vice  versa;  the  figure  in 
these  cases  being  called  metonymy As,  however,  there 
is  no  important  distinction  between  synecdoche  and 
metonymy,  these  terms  serve  no  practical  purpose  and 
are  passing  out  of  use. 

The  force  of  Tropes  belonging  to  any  of  the  varieties 
(including  both  synecdoche  and  metonymy)  of  this 
large  class  lies  in  the  fact  that  they  single  out  a quality 
of  the  object  or  a circumstance  connected  with  it,  and 
fix  the  attention  upon  that.  The  quality  or  the  circum- 
stance thus  emphasized  should,  of  course,  be  the  real 
centre  of  interest. 

Familiar 'examples  are:  the  hench,  the  bar,  the  pulpit for  “the 
judges  on  the  bench,”  “ the  lawyers  within  the  bar,”  “ the  clergy- 
men in  the  pulpit;  ” 'horse  and  foot  for  “ soldiers  on  horseback  and 
on  foot;  ” red  tape  for  “ that  which  uses  red  tape  or  in  which  it  is 
used;”  “twenty  sail  in  the  offing”  for  “twenty  vessels  with 
sails;”  “ pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword”  for  “the  agencies 
of  peaceable  civilization  are  stronger  than  those  of  war;”  “her 
commerce  whitens  every  sea;”  “he  was  aU  impatience;”  “he 
keeps  a good  table;”  “to  bo  young  was  very  Heaven;”  “the 
fortress  was  weakness  itself;”  “a  second  Daniel  come  to  judg- 
ment;”“  some  village  Hampden;”  “a  car^jcZ-Jay  senator;  ” “go 
up,  thou  bald-head ;”  “bringing  p''ay  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the 
grave.” 

Among  tlie  most  forcible  Tropes  are  those  which 
Personiaca-  attribute  life  to  the  lifeless,  as  in  the  figure 
called  Personification ; or  a life  different  from 
their  own  to  the  living,  as  when  we  apply  to  intellectual 
or  moral  qualities  terms  that  properly  belong  to  objects 
of  the  senses,  or  when  we  speak  of  objects  of  the  senses 


i From  yuera,  implying  change,  and  uvo;j.a,  name. 


CUAP.  I.] 


PRINCU^LES  OF  CHOICE. 


89 


in  language  appropriate  to  the  higher  life  of  the  soul. 
For  example  : — 

“ Up  goes  my  grave  Impudence ; ” ^ “ the  raging  torrent ; ” “the 
Jierg  steed;”  ” leaps  the  lice  thunder ^ “a  bleak  north-easterly 
expression.”  ® 

. rich  Dulness'  conifurtable  fur.’'* 

“The  music  crept  bj'  me  upon  the  waters.”  ® 

’’Justice  sheathed  her  claw."  6 
“ on  liis  crest 

Sal  Horror  plum'd."  t 

“ The  pretension  is  not  to  drive  Reason  from  the  helm,  but 
rather  to  bind  her  by  articles  to  steer  in  a particular  way.”  ® 
’’Armour  rusting  in  Iiis  halls 
On  the  blood  of  Clifford  calls; 

‘Quell  the  Scot!  ’ exclaims  the  Lance  — 

Bear  mo  to  the  heart  of  France, 

Is  the  longing  of  the  Shield  — 

Tell  thy  name,  thou  tremhling  Field; 

Field  of  death,  where’er  thou  be. 

Groan  thou  with  our  victor^' ! ” 9 

Forcible  as  it  is,  when  properly  used,  Personification 
is  dangerously  easy  in  languages,  like  the 
English,  in  wliich  there  are  no  arbitrary  mas-  ‘langers. 
culine  or  feminine  forms  ; for  a writer  may  attribute 
personality  to  an  inanimate  object,  merely  by  giving  it 
a masculine  or  a feminine  gender. 

To  speak  of  a ship  as  “ she,”  or  of  the  sun  as  “ he,”  has  long 
ceased  to  be  a tigure  of  speech.  To  speak  of  a college  class,  or  of 
the  United  States,  as  “ she”  is  ridiculous.  “ Gray’s  personifications 
■were  mere  printers’  devils’  personifications, — persons  tvith  a capi- 
tal letter,  abstract  qualities  with  a small  one.”*®  The  remark  is 

* Steele:  The  Tatler,  No.  32.  ® Byron:  Childe  Harold. 

® George  Eliot : Felix  Holt.  ^ Burns : Works,  vol.  i.  p.  227.  (Aldine  Ed.) 

® Shakspere : The  Tempest,  act  i.  scene  ii. 

® Browning:  Prince  Hoheiistiel-Schwangau. 

^ ^lilton : Paradise  Lost,  book  iv.  line  989.  * Jlill : Nature. 

® Wordsworth : Song  at  the  Feast  of  Brougham  Castle. 

*®  Coleridge : Table  Talk. 


90 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


equally  true  of  other  poets  than  Gray,  as  well  as  of  prose-writers 
like  Bulwer.  For  example:  — 

“ So  may  no  niflian  feeling  in  thy  breast 
Discordant  jar  thy  bosom-chords  among; 

But  Peace  attune  thy  gentle  soul  to  rest, 

Or  Love  ecstatic  wake  his  seraph  song; 

Or  Pity's  notes,  in  luxury  of  tears. 

As  modest  Want  the  tale  of  woe  reveals ; 

While  conscious  Virtue  all  the  strain  endears. 

And  heaven-born  Piety  her  sanction  seals.”  1 

The  most  common  and,  generally  speaking,  the  most 
Metaphors  Serviceable  of  Tropes  is  the  simile  or  meta- 
and  Similes,  pjior.  The  two  may  be  considered  as  one, 
since  they  differ  only  in  form,  the  Simile  stating  what  is 
implied  in  the  Metaphor.  Every  simile  can,  accordingly, 
be  condensed  into  a metaphor,  and  every  metaphor  can 
be  expanded  into  a simile. 

Lear’s  metaphor,  — 

“ Ingratitude ! thou  marble-hearted  fiend ! ” 2 — 

if  changed  to 

“ Ingratitude ! thou  fiend,  with  heart  Uhe  marble,"  — 
becomes  a simile.  The  simile  affirms  a resemblance  between  the 
heart  and  marble;  the  metaphor  does  nothing  more,  for  the  asser- 
tion that  the  heart  is  marble  is  a rhetorical  exaggeration  which 
deceives  nobody. 

Tennyson’s  metaphor,  — 

“Yet  all  experience  is  an  arch  wherethrough 
Gleams  that  untravelled  world,  whose  margin  fades 
Forever  and  forever  as  I move,”  ^ — 

is  easily  changed  to  a simile  that  says  the  same  thing  in  tamer  lan- 
guage; namely,  “ Experience,  in  its  relation  to  the  unknown  future, 
is  like  an  arch  in  its  relation  to  the  yet  unvisited  world  beyond  it.  ’ ’ 

All  writers  agree  that,  other  things  being  equal,  the 
Metaphor  is  more  forcible  than  the  Simile  ; but  opinions 
differ  as  to  the  true  explanation  of  the  fact. 

1 Burns:  Poems,  vol.  ill.  p.  122. 

2 Shakspere  : King  Lear,  act  i.  scene  iv.  * Tennyson  : Ulj'sses. 


CUAP.  I.J 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


91 


According  to  Dr.  Whately,  who  adopts  the  idea  from 
Aristotle,  the  superiority  of  the  Metaphor  is 
ascribable  to  the  fact  that  “ all  men  are  more  mitapUorJto 
gratified  at  catching  the  resemblance  for  them- 
selves,  than  at  having  it  pointed  out  to  them  ; ” ^ accord- 
ing to  Herbert  Spencer,  “ the  great  economy  it  achieves 
would  seem  to  be  the  more  lirobable  cause : ” ^ but 
neither  explanation  is  altogether  satisfactory.  On  the 
one  hand,  the  Metaphor,  though  shorter  than  the  Simile, 
usually  makes  the  mind  do  more  work;  on  the  other 
hand,  the  mind  is  rendered  more  able  to  ivork,  — not, 
however,  because  it  is  “ gratified,”  but  because  it  is 
stimulated  to  exertion. 

The  Simile  is,  however,  to  be  preferred  to  the  Meta- 
phor whenever  the  resemblance  between  the  similes 
things  compared  would  be  obscure  in  the  met-  are  preferable, 
aphorical  form.  In  such  cases.  Force  must  be  sacrificed 
to  Perspicuity,  or  both  will  be  lost.  For  example : — 

“He  look'd  upon  them  all, 

And  in  each  face  he  saw  a gleam  of  light, 

But  splendider  in  Saturu’.s,  whose  hoar  locks 
Shone  like  the  bubbling  foam  about  a keel 
When  the  prow  sweeps  into  a midnight  cave.”  * 

“I  fear  thee,  ancient  mariner! 

I fear  thy  skinny  hand ! 

And  thou  art  long,  and  lank,  and  brown. 

As  is  the  ribbed  sea-sand.”  * 

“A  fine  lady  is  a squirrel-headed  thing,  with  small  airs  and 
small  notions  about  as  applicable  to  the  business  of  life  as  a pair 
of  tweezers  to  the  clearing  of  a forest.  ’ ’ ® 

In  these  instances,  there  is  little  room  for  difference  of  opinion. 

1 Whately : Rhetorie,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  iii. 

2 Spencer:  Philosophy  of  Style.  See  also  p.  163. 

s Keats : Hyperion,  book  ii. 

* Coleridge:  The  Ancient  IMariner,  part  iv. 

^ George  Eliot : Felix  Holt,  vol.  i.  chap.  v. 

5 


92 


CUOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


Not  so  with  an  example  given  by  Herbert  Spencer,  first,  in  the 
form  of  a simile ; secondly,  in  that  of  a metaphor : — 

“ As,  in  passing  through  the  crystal,  beams  of  white  light  are 
decomposed  into  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  so,  in  traversing  the 
soul  of  the  poet,  the  colorless  rays  of  truth  are  transformed  into 
brightly-tinted  poetry. 

“ The  white  light  of  truth,  in  traversing  the  many-sided  trans- 
parent soul  of  the  poet,  is  refracted  into  iris-hued  poetry.”  i 

In  this  case,  Spencer  prefers  the  IMetaphor  to  the  Simile ; but 
most  persons  not  conversant  with  the  phenomena  of  refraction 
would  fail  to  grasp  the  idea,  unless  the  comparison  were  drawn  out 
at  length. 

Burke’s  treatment  of  a similar  figure,  in  its  application  to  a 
different  subject,  is  better : — 

“ These  metaphysic  rights  entering  into  common  life,  like  rays 
of  light  which  pierce  into  a dense  medium,  are,  by  the  laws  of 
Nature,  refracted  from  their  straight  line.  Indeed,  in  the  gross  and 
complicated  mass  of  human  passions  and  concerns,  the  primitive 
rights  of  man  undergo  such  a variety  of  refractions  and  reflections 
that  it  becomes  absurd  to  talk  of  them  as  if  they  continued  in  the 
simplicity  of  their  oidginal  direction.”  ^ 

It  is  often  found  adviantageous  to  use  the  Simile  until 
The  two  forms  meaning  is  plain,  and  then  to  adopt  the 
combined,  metaphorical  form : thus  the  advantages  of 
both  forms  are  secured. 

This  is  done  by  Burke  in  the  sentence  last  cited. 

Other  instances  are : — 

“ Some  minds  are  wonderful  for  keeping  their  bloom  in  this 
way,  as  a patriarchal  gold-fish  apparently  retains  to  the  last  its 
youthful  illucion  that  it  can  swim  in  a straight  line  beyond  the 
encircling  glass.  Mrs.  Tulliver  was  an  amiable  fish  of  this  kind; 
and,  after  running  her  head  against  the  same  resisting  medium 
for  thirteen  years,  would  go  at  it  again  to-day  with  unduUed 
alacrity.”  ® 

1 Essay  on  the  Philosophy  of  Style. 

2 French  Revolution : Works,  chap.  iii.  p.  82. 

* George  Eliot:  Mill  on  the  Floss,  book  i.  chap.  viii. 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


93 


“ Law ’s  like  laudanum;  it ’s  much  more  easy  to  use  il  as  a quack 
does  than  to  learn  to  apply  it  like  a physician.”  ^ 

la  such  combinations,  tlie  Simile  when  it  comes  first 
explains  the  Metaphor,  and  thus  prepares  the  mind  for  it ; 
the  Simile  gives  clearness,  the  Metaphor  force,  to  the  fig- 
ure. The  reverse  order  should  rarely,  if  ever,  be  adopted 
except  in  cases  in  which  the  Metaphor  is  by  itself  intelli- 
gible. In  such  cases,  the  Simile  serves,  not  to  remove  an 
obscurity,  but  to  determine  more  precisely,  or  to  enlarge, 
a meaning  already  suggested.  For  example  : — 

“ There  are  a sort  of  men,  whose  visages 
Do  cream  and  mantle  like  a standing  pond.”  * 

“So  far  her  voice  flow'd  on,  like  timorous  brook 
That,  lingering  along  a pebbled  coast, 

Doth  fear  to  meet  the  sea.”  ^ 

“Then  did  their  loss  his  foemen  know; 

Their  King,  their  Lords,  their  mightiest  low, 

They  melted  from  the  field,  as  snow, 

When  streams  are  swoln  and  south  winds  blow. 

Dissolves  in  silent  dew.”  * 

Whately  holds  that  the  simile  in  the  lines  last  quoted  serves  to 
explain  the  metaphor  in  “melted;”  but  is  this  so?  The  meta- 
phorical word  “melted,”  far  from  being  obscure,  suggests  the 
idea  of  snow  to  any  one  who  is  accustomed  to  see  snow  melt  from  a 
field ; and  the  succeeding  lines  serve  to  extend  the  comparison  from 
snow  that  melts  to  snow  that  melts  rapidly. 


To  enumerate  all  tbc  classes  into  which  Tropes  have 
been  divided  by  rhetoricians  would  be  to  language 
fatigue  and  perplex  the  reader,  without  shed-  bgurative. 
ding  any  light  upon  their  nature  and  uses.  They  are, 
indeed,  the  very  stuff  of  human  language  ; for  even  the 
words  which  appear  to  be  perfectly  literal,  so  familiar 
have  they  become,  were  once  figurative. 


1 Scott : Guy  Mannering,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xxiii. 

Shakspere : The  Merchant  of  Venice,  act  i.  scene  i. 

2 Keats  : Ilj-perion,  book  ii.  ^ Scott : Marmion,  vi.  xxxiv. 


94 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OE  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


Thus,  we  speak  of  an  edifying  discourse,  but  no  longer  of  “ edify- 
ing a church;  ” of  spiritual  ardor,  but  not  of  “the  ardor  of  a fire;  ” 
of  an  acute  mind,  but  not  of  “an  acute  razor;”  of  speculative 
opinions,  but  not  of  “speculation  in  those  eyes;”  of  the  levity  of 
a character,  but  not  of  “ the  levity  of  cork.” 

“ Thinkest  thou  there  were  no  poets  till  Dan  Chaucer?  No 
heart  burning  with  a thought,  which  it  could  not  hold,  and  had 
no  word  for,  and  needed  to  shape  and  coin  a word  for,  — what 
thou  callest  a metaphor,  trope,  or  the  like?  For  every  word  we 
have,  there  was  such  a man  and  poet.  The  coldest  word  was 
once  a glowing,  new  metaphor,  and  bold,  questionable  originality. 
‘Thy  very  attention,  does  it  not  mean  an  attentio,  a stretch- 
ing TO  ? ’ Fancy  that  act  of  the  mind,  which  all  were  conscious 
of,  which  none  had  yet  named,  when  this  new  ‘ poet  ’ first  felt 
bound  and  driven  to  name  it!  His  questionable  originality  and 
new  glowing  metaphor  was  found  adoptable,  intelligible,  and 
remains  our  name  for  it  to  this  day.”  ^ 

Numerous  words  are  still  used  both  in  their  primitive 

Words  at  once  and  in  a secondary  signification, 
literal  and 

iigurative.  Mirrors  and  minds  alike  reflect ; there  are  sources  of 

rivers  as  well  as  of  information;  we  launch  new  projects  as  weU  as 
new  vessels;  we  store  knowledge  as  well  as  merchandise. 

"Words  which  have  once  lost  their  primitive  meaning 
can  be  revived  in  that  meaning  by  nothing  but  a change 
in  usage;  but  those  which  retain  both  their  primitive 
and  their  secondary  signification  a skilful  writer  can 
make  as  figurative  as  ever. 

“ His  diction  is  flowing  and  harmonious;  and  the  ‘flowing  ’ may 
be  said  of  it  advisedly,  because  it  always  j^nds  its  own  level.”  ^ 

“ To  convince  Carp  of  his  mistake,  so  that  he  would  have  to  eat 
his  own  words  with  a good  deal  of  indigestion,  would  be  an  agreeable 
accident  of  triumphant  authorship.”  ® 

1 Carlyle : Past  and  Present,  book  ii.  chap.  xvii. 

2 Mrs.  Browning:  Letters  to  Rich ai'd  Ilengist  Horne,  chap.  xlii. 

3 George  Eliot:  Middlemarch,  hook  iv.  See,  for  an  example  in  a very  differ- 
ent tone,  Mr.  Gilfil’s  Love  Story,  chap,  v.,  last  paragraph. 


Chap.  I.] 


PKINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


95 


A word  that  still  exists  in  both  a literal  and  a figura- 
tive sense  should  be  used  in  a manner  consistent  with 
both  meanings,  whenever  both  meanings  are  likely  to 
be  suggested;  for,  if  such  a word  is  jouied  with  ex- 
pressions inappropriate  to  it  in  either  sense,  the  incon- 
gruity is  apparent,  and,  if  glaring,  constitutes  a serious 
fault. 

One  can  throw  light  on  obscurities,  but  not  “ unravel  ” them, 
unravel  perplexities,  but  not  “throw  light  on”  them;  knowledge 
can  be  drawn  from  or  derived  from  sources  of  information,  but  not 
“ based  on,”  or  “repeated  from,”  them;  an  impression  can  be  made 
on  the  mind,  but  not  “ conveyed  to  ” it. 

“ Our  language  has  many  combinations  of  words,  indifferent  as 
regards  the  metaphor,  but  fixed  by  use,  and  therefore  not  to  be  de- 
parted from.  We  say  ‘ use  or  employ  means  ’ and  ‘ take  steps,’  but 
not  use  steps.  One  may  acquire  knowledge,  take  degrees,  contract 
habits,  lay  up  treasure,  obtain  rewards,  win  ju-izes,  gain  celebrity, 
arrive  at  honors,  conduct  affairs,  espouse  a side,  interpose  authority, 
pursue  a course,  turn  to  account,  serve  for  a warning,  bear  no  mal- 
ice, prq/ess  principles,  cultivate  acquaintance,  pass  over  in  silence; 
all  which  expressions  owe  their  suitability,  not  to  the  original  sense 
of  the  words,  but  to  the  established  usages  of  the  language.”  ^ 

In  a complex  or  elaborate  figure  of  speech,  the  danger 
is  that  the  thing  illustrated  may  be  forgotten 
in  the  illustration,  that  which  should  be  «gures®of 
subordinate  becoming  the  principal  object  of 
attention.  A figure  of  this  kind,  instead  of  illumin- 
ating the  path  of  thought,  is  an  ignis  fatuus.  Such  are 
the  conceits  of  Cowley  and  other  old  writers ; the  alle- 
gories once  popular ; the  exercises  of  intellectual  inge- 
nuity which  only  differ  from  conundrums  and  enigmas 
in  not  being  amusing.  Writing  of  this  kind  is  well  de- 
scribed as  “frigid;”  that  is,  it  counterfeits  the  warmth 


1 Bain : Rhetoric,  part  i.  chap.  i. 


96 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  IL 


and  glow  of  poetry,  but  leaves  those  whom  it  deceives 
the  colder  for  their  disappointment.  For  example  : — 

“Man  is  a harp,  -whose  chords  elude  the  sight, 

Each  yielding  harmony  disposed  aright ; 

The  scre-ws  reversed  (a  task  -which,  if  he  please, 

God  in  a moment  executes  with  ease). 

Ten  thousand  thousand  strings  at  once  go  loose. 

Lost,  till  he  tune  them,  all  their  power  and  use.”  t 

*•  Tfie  -truth  is  that  Macaulay  -tvas  not  only  accustomed,  like 
many  more  of  us,  to  go  out  hobby-riding,  but,  from  the  portentous 
vigor  of  the  animal  he  mounted,  was  liable,  more  than  most  of  us, 
to  be  run  away  with.  His  merit  is  that  he  could  beep  his  seat  in 
such  a steeple-chase;  but,  as  the  object  in  view  is  arbitrarily  chosen, 
so  it  is  reached  by  cutting  up  the  fields,  spoiling  the  crops,  and 
spoiling  or  breaking  down  the  fences,  needful  to  secure  to  labor  its 
profit,  and  to  man  at  large  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  fruits  of  the 
earth.”  ^ 

The  former  of  these  examples  is  frigidity  itself ; the  objection  to 
the  latter  lies  in  the  difficulty  of  giving  equal  attention  throughout 
to  both  sides  of  the  comparison.  The  reader  is  in  danger  of  forget- 
ting Macaulay  in  the  excitement  of  the  chase;  but  the  metaphor  is 
consistently,  though  rather  awkwardly,  carried  out. 

Figures  suggestive  of  incompatible  ideas  should  not 
Mixed  brought  close  together,  for  the  more  forci- 
metapkors.  they  are,  the  more  detrimental  they  must 
be  to  each  other.  For  example  : — 

“Across  the  streets,  at  wide  inteiwals,  one  clumsy  lamp  was 
slung  by  a rope  and  pulley ; at  night,  when  the  lamplighter  had  let 
these®  down,  and  lighted®  and  hoisted  them®  again,  a feeble  grove 
of  dim  wicks  swung  in  a sickly  manner  overhead,  as  if  they  -w'ere 
at  sea.”  ^ 

‘ ‘ The  world  should  throw  open  all  its  avenues  to  the  passport  of 
a woman^s  bleeding  heart.”  ® 

1 Cowper:  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  18.3. 

2 Gladstone,  in  The  Quarterly  Review.  ® See  p.  72. 

4 Dickens:  A Tale  of  Two  Cities,  book  i.  chap.  v. 

® Hawthorne  : Blifhedale  Romance,  chap,  xxviii. 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


97 


“Wandering  over  that  illustrious  scene  [the  plains  of  Tro}^], 
surrounded  by  the  tombs  of  heroes  and  by  the  confluence  of  poetic 
streams,  my  musing  thoughts  clustered  round  the  niemorg  of  that  im- 
mortal song,  to  which  all  creeds  and  countries  alike  respond,  which 
has  vanquished  chance  and  defied  time.”  ^ 

“ If  no  authority,  not  in  its  nature  temporary,  were  allowed  to 
one  human  being  over  another,  society  would  not  be  employed  in 
building  up  propensities  with  one  hand  which  it  has  to  curb  with  the 
other.”  * 

“ Yet  exactly  upon  this  level  is  the  ordinary  state  of  musical 
feeling  throughout  Great  Britain;  and  the  howling  wilderness  of 
the  psalmody  in  most  parish  churches  of  the  land  countersigns  the 
Statement.”  ® 

“ The  other  shall  have  used  every  tittle  of  the  same  matter  with- 
out eliciting  one  scintillation  of  sympathy,  without  leaving  behind 
one  distinct  impression  in  the  memory,  or  planting  one  murmur  in 
the  heart.”  ® 

A similar  fault  is  that  of  joining  literal  with  meta- 
phorical expressions. 

“Boyle  was  the  father  of  chemistry  and  brother  to  the  Earl  oj 
Cork.” 

“ Thus,  as  I may  say,  before  the  use  of  the  load-stone  or  knowl- 
edge of  the  compass,  I was  .sailing  in  a vast  ocean  without  other 
fiehr  than  the  pole-star  of  the  ancients  and  the  rules  of  the  French 
stage  amongst  the  moderns,  which  are  extremely  different  from  ours, 
by  reason  of  their ^ opposite  taste.”  ® 

“ When  entering  the  twilight  of  dotage,  reader,  I mean  to  have  a 
printing  press  in  my  own  study.”  ® 

“ A cloud  of  ignorance  overspread  the  whole  face  of  the  church, 
hardly  broken  by  a few  glimmering  lights,  who’’  owe  much  of  their 
distinction  to  the  surrounding  darkness.”  ® 

1 Disraeli : Preface  to  TIic  Revolutionary  Epick  (18-34). 

- Mill:  The  Subjection  of  Women. 

3 De  Quincey : Essay  on  Style.  ^ See  pp.  35,  72. 

5 Dryden:  Essay  on  Satire.  ® DeCJuinccy:  Secret  Societies. 

t Would  the  substitution  of  “which”  for  “wlio”  remove  the  difficulty V 
See  p.  44. 

8 Ilallam:  Jliddle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  part  i.  chap.  ix. 


9S 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


“It  is  not  likely,  therefore,  that  the  Republican  Convention  will 
declare  strongly  against  the  South.  They  will,  of  course,  throw  a tub 
to  the  whale  in  that  respect  in  some  general  2'>hrases.''’ ' 

“ lie  had  now  placed  in  the  vice-royalty  of  Ireland  that  star 
of  exceeding  brightness  but  sinister  influence,  the  willing  and  able 
instrument  of  despotic  power.  Lord  Strafford.”  ^ 

“But,  although  clouds  of  dusky  warriors  were  seen  from  time 
to  time  hovering  on  the  highlands,  as  if  watching  their  progress, 
they  experienced  no  interruption.”  ^ 

Whenever  Tropes  explain,  enforce,  or  enliven  the 
thought,  they  may  be  substituted  for  proper  terms. 
Value  Some  writers  speak  of  their  use  for  purposes 
of  tropes,  of  oriiameut ; but  it  may  be  doubted  whether, 
in  prose  at  least,  they  ever  adorn  a composition,  with- 
out at  the  same  time  rendering  it  either  more  clear,  or 
more  effective  for  the  purpose  in  hand.  Their  power 
may  be  traced  to  the  superiority  of  the  things  of  the 
imagination  to  those  of  the  understanding,  of  the  unfa- 
miliar to  the  trite.  A trope  should  naturally  grow  out 
of  the  subject ; it  should  be  pictorial,  so  as  to  substitute 
a symbol  for  a verbal  sign ; fresh  enough  to  give  the 
reader  a pleasant  surprise,  but  not  so  strange  as  to  startle 
liim  ; in  harmony  with  the  purpose  and  tone  of  the  com- 
position ; and  as  brief  as  is  compatible  with  clearness. 
Forcible  as  figurative  language  is  in  the  hands  of 
a master,  it  may  be  less  forcible  than  plain 
of  words  t?ua  prose  “ hewn  from  life.”  “ Nothing  but  great 
weight  in  things  can  afford  a quite  literal 
speech  ; ” ^ but  when  literal  speech  is  so  weighted,  it  is 
irresistible.  Hence  the  power  of  Demosthenes  among 

’ American  periodical. 

2 Hallam  : Constitutional  History,  vol.  iii.  cliap.  xviii. 

® Prescott : Conquest  of  Ble.xico,  vol.  ii.  chap.  vii. 

^ Emerson : Letters  and  Social  Aims,  p.  11. 


Chap.  L] 


PKINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


99 


the  ancients;  of  Drj^den,  Swift,  and  Webster  among 
the  moderns. 

Force  may  be  gained  by  the  use  of  words  of  which 
the  sound  suggests  the  meaning.  sound  that 

suggests 

Such  are  words  denoting  sounds : whiz,  roar,  splash,  sense. 
thud,  buzz,  hubbub,  murmur,  hiss,  rattle,  boom ; names  taken  from 
sounds:  cuckoo,  whip-poor-will,  bumble-bee,  humming-bird,  crag ; words 
so  arranged  that  the  sound  expresses  the  meaning : — 

“.  . . On  a sudden  open  fly 
With  impetuous  recoil  and  jarring  sound 
Th’  infernal  doors,  and  on  their  hinges  grate  harsh  Uiunder.”  ^ 

“ And  the  long  carpets  rose  along  the  gustj'  floor.”  2 
“ On  the  car 

Drops  the  light  drip  of  the  suspended  oar, 

And  chirps  the  grasshopper  one  good-night  carol  more.”  ® 

Such  are  many  interjections:  heigh-ho!  whew!  hist!  bang!  ding- 
dong!  pooh!  hush!  Such,  too,  are  words  derived  from  objects  of 
the  senses,  but  applied  to  mental  phenomena  because  of  a supposed 
resemblance  or  association  of  ideas:  “a  harsh  temper,”  '■‘■soft  man- 
ners,” “ a sweet  disposition,”  “ stormy  passions,”  “ a quick  mind,” 
‘‘a  sharp  tongue.” 

Such  words,  or  combinations  of  words,  have  certain 
obvious  advantages.  They  are  not  only  specific,  clear, 
and  forcible,  but  also  so  familiar  that  they  may  be  ac- 
counted natural  symbols  rather  than  arbitrary  signs ; 
but  they  may  be  misused,  as  when  chosen  with  an  obvi- 
ous effort,  or  because  they  sound  well,  rather  than 
because  they  are  peculiarly  expressive.  The  safe  course 
is,  on  the  one  hand,  not  to  reject  a word  or  phrase  be- 
cause its  sound  helps  to  communicate  the  meaning  ; on 
the  other  hand,  not  to  strain  after  such  expressions,  lest, 
in  the  effort  to  grasp  the  shadow,  the  substanee  be  lost. 


5* 


1 Milton : Paradise  Lost,  book  ii.  line  79. 

2 Keats : St.  Agnes  Eve. 

® Byron : Childe  Harold,  canto  iii.  line  8G. 


100 


CHOICE  AHD  USE  OE  WOKDS. 


[Book  II. 


SECTION  in. 

Elegance. 


Besides  Clearness  (the  primary  quality  of  all  compo- 
sitions, but  especially  of  those  which  are  addressed  to  the 
understanding)  and  Force  (the  appropriate  excellence  of 
language  addressed  to  the  feelings  or  the  passions),  there 
is  a third  quality  of  style  called  Elegance  or  Beauty. 
Elegance  constitutes  the  charm  of  language  that  pleases, 
be  the  pleasure  of  a low  or  of  a high  order, 
as  distinguished  from  that  which  either  in- 


Ele^anoe 

Uennecl. 


structs  or  impresses ; it  is,  therefore,  the  appropriate 
excellence  of  poetry.  Elegance  dictates  the  choice  of 
words  that  are  agreeable  to  the  ear,  the  taste,  or  the  im- 
agination ; and  it  prohibits  harsh  sounds,  coarse  expres- 
sions, and  unpleasant  metaphors.  It  is  offended  by  the 
vulgarity  of  fine  writing ^ on  the  one  hand,  and  by  brutal 
or  bestial  plainness  of  speech,  on  the  other. 

Elegance  prohibits  the  introduction  into  serious  com- 
o#posed  to  position  of  language  that  is  trivial  or  vulgar, 
vulgarity,  either  by  itself  or  by  its  associations.  For 
example : — 


“ ‘ Blessed  are  the  meek  1 ’ That  was  one  of  His  observa- 
tions.” ^ 

“He  [Protogenes,  the  grammarian]  puts  in  a very  unpleasant 
appearance  elsewhere.”® 

“ Our  friend,  the  Koman  cit*  has  therefore  thus  far,  in  his  prog- 
ress through  life,  obtained  no  breakfast,  if  he  ever  contemplated  an 
idea  so  frantic.  ...  I could  bring  wagon  loads  of  sentiments  • • - 


• See  p.  79. 

* Quoted  from  the  discourse  of  an  English  open-air  preacher. 

« Archbishop  Trench : Plutarch,  lect.  i.  ^ See  p.  27. 


Chap.  I.] 


PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


101 


which  prove  more  clearly  than  the  most  eminent  pikestaff  . . . that 
if  a man  . . . misses  hot  coffee  and  rolls  at  nine,  he  may  easily 
run  into  a leg  of  mutton  at  twelve.”  ^ 

“The  House  of  Socrates  (‘ Domus  Socratica’  is  the  expression 
of  Horace)  were  those  who  next  attemjited  to  popularize  Greek 
prose;  namely,  the  old  gentleman  hansel/,  the  founder  of  the  concern, 
and  his  two  apprentices,  Plato  and  Xenophon.  We  acknowledge  a 
sneaking  hatred  toward  the  whole  household,  founded  chiefly  on  the 
intense  feeling  we  entertain  that  all  three  were  humbugs.  We  own 
the  stony  impeachment.”  ^ 

It  is  inelegant,  even  where  the  meaning  is  clear,  to 
use  a word  in  two  senses  in  the  same  sen-  to  use  of 

a word  in 

tence.  two  senses 

in  the  same 

“ He  turned  to  the  left,  and  left  the  room.”  sentence. 

“ . . . every  morning  setting  a worthy  example  to  his  men  by 
setting  fire,  with  his  own  monster  hands,  to  the  house  where  he  had 
slept  last  night.”  ^ 

“ . . . contradictors  and  railers  at  public  and  private  tables, 
who  are  like  terriers,  who  conceive  it  the  duty  of  a dog  of  honor 
to  growl  at  any  passer-by,  and  do  the  honors  of  the  house  by  bark- 
ing him  out  of  sight.”  ^ 

This  species  of  inelegance  is  sometimes  resorted  to  as  a humorous 
device;  as, — 

“ . . .he  fell  into  the  barrow,  and  fast  asleep,  simultaneously.”® 

Verbal  nouns  in  -ing  are  usually  inelegant,  and  some- 
times obscure,  particularly  where  participles  or  other 
verbal  forms  in  -ing  occur  in  the  sentence,  verbal  nouns 
In  most  cases,  it  is  possible  to  substitute  for 
them  either  nouns  not  open  to  the  same  objection,  or 
participles : where  this  cannot  be  done,  it  is  usually 
better  to  give  the  sentence  another  turn. 

1 De  Quince}^ : Dinner  Real  and  Reputed. 

2 Ibid. : Essay  on  Style. 

s Dickens:  A Child’s  History  of  England,  chap.  xiv. 

* Emerson : Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  407. 

® Dickens : Pickwick  Papers,  vol.  i.  chap.  xi.x. 


102 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OE  WOEDS. 


IBook  IL 


“ For  the  preventing  and  removing  of  error,  ministers  and  elders 
of  near  adjoining  churches  might ^ hold  public  Christian  confer- 
ence, provided  that  nothing  be^  imposed  byway  of  authority  by 
one  or  more  churches  upon  another,  but  only  2 by  way  of  brotherly 
consultations.” 

“Even  these  inconveniences  were  hardly  felt  amidst  the  appre- 
hensions 'which,  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  King’s  forces  reason- 
ably excited  in  his  bosom. 

“ After  some  petty  difficulties  . . . he  accomplished  crossing  the 
country.”^ 

The  most  elegant  writers  are  not  often  the  most 
forcible  ones ; nor  are  the  most  forcible  pas- 

Elegance  . . 

contrasted  sagcs  111  the  Same  writer  those  most  remarka- 
ble for  beauty  of  expression. 

“Barry  Cornwall  has  done  a good  deal,  with  all  his  genius,^ 
and  perhaps  as  a consequence  of  his  genius,  to  emasculate  the 
poetry  of  the  passing  age.  To  talk  of  ‘ fair  things  ’ when  he  had 
to  speak  of  women,  and  of  ‘ laughing  flowers  ’ when  his  business 
was  with  a full-blown  daisy  [dame  or  dairy-maid],  is  the  fa.shion 
of  his  school.  His  care  has  not  been  to  use  the  most  expressive, 
but  the  prettiest  word.  His  Muse  has  held  her  Pandemonium 
too  much  in  the  cavity  of  his  ear.  StiU,  that  this  arises  from 
a too  exquisite  sense  of  beauty  as  a means  as  weU  as  an  object,  is 
evident.  ’ ’ * 

Uniform  elegance,  though  accompanied  by  uniform 
force,  soon  cloys  on  the  mind  and  even  on  the  ear  ; and 
sometimes  the  only  way  of  reviving  the  interest  seems 
to  be  by  the  use  of  a vigorous  expression  which  is  posi- 
tively inelegant. 

On  the  other  hand,  a writer  may  sacrifice  elegance  to 


1 See  p.  38.  a See  p.  37. 

® Scott : Waverley,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xxiv. 

^ Ibid.,  chap.  xxv.  See  also  p.  43.  ® See  p.  140. 

® Mrs.  Browning : Letters  to  K.  H.  Horne,  chap,  xxxvii. 


Chap.  I.J 


PKINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE. 


103 


energy  to  such  an  extent  as  to  defeat  his  purpose ; he 
may  offend  the  taste  by  vulgarity  of  expression  or  of 
suggestion ; he  may  be  bombastic,  — that  is,  employ 
language  too  forcible  for  his  thought ; he  may,  in  short, 
in  one  way  or  another,  make  Force,  which  should  be  a 
means,  an  end  in  itself.  The  appearance  of  attention 
either  to  beauty  or  to  vigor  of  expression  is  fatal  to  suc- 
cess. In  the  former  case,  a writer  is  justly  called  affected 
or  sentimental;  in  the  latter  case,  he  is  justly  called 
sensational. 


104 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


CHAPTER  II. 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


The  fault  of 
using  too 
few  words. 


A SENTENCE  should  contain  every  word  which  is 
necessary  to  the  efficient  communication  of  thought  or 
feeling,  hut  not  one  word  more. 

If  a sentence  contains  too  few  words  for  adequate  ex- 
pression, the  reader  either  has  to  supply  the 
omission  for  himself,  at  a cost  of  time  and 
labor  that  would  otherwise  he  given  to  the 
meaning,  or  he  is  unable  to  supply  the  omission,  in 
which  case  the  sentence  fails  to  effect  its  purpose.^ 
Such  incomplete  sentences  may  be  ungrammatical ; ^ or 
they  may  be  correct  in  form,  but  obscure  or  ambiguous 
in  substance. 

The  sense  may  be  changed  or  darkened  by  the  omis- 
Omission  of  sioii  of  the  article. 

the  article. 


‘ ‘ The  treasurer  and  secretaiy  ’ ’ means  one  person  who  holds 
two  offices;  “the  treasurer  and  secretary  ” means  two  officers. 
“A  black  and  white  dog”  means  one  parti-colored  animal;  “a 
black  and  a white  dog  ” means  two  dogs,  one  black  and  one  white. 
“The  honest  and  intelligent”  are  those  who  are  holh  honest 
and  intelligent;  “the  honest  and  the  intelligent”  are  two  classes: 
one,  composed  of  those  who  are  honest ; the  other,  of  those  who  are 
intelligent. 

The  following  sentences  are,  therefore,  defective:  — 

“ The  council  and  synod  ® maintained  that  the  unity  of  the  person 
implied  not  any  unity  in  the  consciousness.”  ^ 


1 Supen’acua  cum  taedio  dicuntur,  necessaria  cum  periculo  subtrahuntur.  — 
Quintilian;  Inst.  Orator,  iv.  ii.  xliv.  2 ggg  pp.  35-38. 

8 The  context  shows  that  the  council  was  one  body,  the  synod  another. 

* Hume:  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  i. 


Chap.  II.] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


105 


“ The  reader  is  requested  to  note  a seeming  contradiction  in  the 
two  views  which  have  been  given  of  Graham  Bretton  — the  public 
and  private  — the  out-door  and  the  in-door  view.  In  the  first,  tlie 
public,  he  is  shown  oblivious  of  self;  as  ^ modest  in  the  display  of 
his  energies,  as  ^ earnest  in  their  exercise.  In  the  second,  the  fire- 
side picture,  there  is  expressed  consciousness  of  what  he  has  and 
what  he  is.”  * 

The  presence  or  the  absence  of  a definite  article  or 
demonstrative  pronoun  before  the  antece-  -wuih  rei,itive 
dent  of  a relative  pronoun,  often  determines  pronouns, 
whether  the  relative  clause  restricts  the  meaning  of  the 
antecedent,  or  merely  explains  it  or  adds  something  to  it. 

In  the  sentence,  “ Virtue,  ^vhich  he  possessed  in  large  measure, 
is  its  own  reward,”  the  relative  clause  is  thrown  in  as  an  additional 
thought,  and  may  be  omitted  without  destroying  the  grammatical 
coherence  of  the  principal  clause;  but  in  the  sentence,  “ The  [or 
that]  virtue  which  hides  itself  is  not  sure  of  reward,”  the  relative 
clause  is  essential  both  to  the  sense  and  to  the  construction, 
llemove  the  from  before  virtue,  and  the  second  sentence  might  be 
construed  like  the  first;  for  commas ^ are  subject  to  so  many  acci- 
dents that  their  absence  is  not  decisive.  The  following  sentences 
are  correct : — 

“Bruce,  ivho  had  long  harbored  in  his  breast  the  design  of 
freeing  his  enslaved  countiy,  ventured  at  last  to  open  his  mind  to 
John  Cummin,  a powerful  nobleman,  ivith  whom  he  lived  in  strict 
intimacy.”  * 

“ Robert  Bruce,  grandson  of  that  Robert  lolio  had  been  one  of 
the  competitors  for  the  crown,  had  succeeded,  by  his  grandfather’s 
and  his  father’s  death,  to  all  their  rights.”  ^ 

In  the  last  sentence,  that  is  merely  the  equivalent  of  the;  but 
the  presence  of  the  (or  its  equivalent)  does  not  always  suffice  to 
determine  in  which  way  the  relative  is  to  be  understood.  In  such 
cases,  that  is  more  definite  than  the  would  be.  Thus:  — 

“ Those  inhabitants  who  had  favored  the  insurrection  expected 

1 See  p.  37.  ^ Charlotte  Bronte : Villette,  chap.  xx. 

* See  Appendix,  p.  263. 

^ Hume : History  of  England,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xiii. 


« Ibid. 


lOG 


CHOICE  AHD  USE  OF  AVORDS. 


[Book  II. 


sack  and  massacre,  and  implored  the  protection  of  their  neighbors 
tvho  professed  the  Roman  Catholic  religion.”  ^ 

If  the  had  been  used  at  the  beginning  of  the  foregoing  sen- 
tence instead  of  those,  the  reader  might  have  inferred  that  all  the 
inhabitants  favored  the  insurrection.  The  omission  of  those  of  or 
such  of  before  “ their  neighbors,”  on  the  other  hand,  is  to  be 
justified  only  on  the  ground  that  the  context  shows  that  the  neigh- 
bors were  not  all  Roman  Catholics. 

The  following  sentence  is  an  instance  of  ambiguity:  — 

“ L wanted  the  votes  of  two  Independents,  but  L was 

a Republican  [,]  for  whom  they  could  not  be  induced  to  vote.” 

AVere  they  unable  to  vote  for  him  because  he  was  a Republican, 
or  because  he  was  a particularly  objectionable  Republican? 

The  meaning  of  a sentence  may  also  be  changed  or 
obscured  by  the  omission  of  a preposition,  a 

Omission  of  . i i t -r-\ 

necessary  nouii,  or  some  Other  word  or  words.  Jbor 

words.  , 

example : — 

“A  little  dinner,  not  more  than  the  Muses,  with  all  the  guests 
clever,  and  some  pretty,  offers  human  life  and  human  nature  under 
very  favorable  circumstances.” 

“ In  this  he  [Lord  Plunket]  closely  resembled  the  greatest  of  ad- 
vocates in  modern  times,  and  second  to  none  of  the  ancient  masters. 
The  resemblance  was  not  confined  to  the  self-denial,  the  entire  ab- 
sorption in  the  case,  the  invariable  and,  as  it  were,  instinctive  sac- 
rifice to  it  of  all  feelings,  save  those  which  could  ensure  success ; 
but  Erskine,  too,  was  eminently  an  argumentative  speaker.”  ® 

“ Again;  the  theorists  of  absolute  monarchy  have  always  affirmed 
it  to  be  the  only  natural  form  of  government.”  ^ 

“ I am  far  from  a very  inquisitive  man  by  temperament,”  said 
Kenelm.® 

“ If  the  heroine  is  depicted  as  an  unlovable  character,  there  is 
little  to  be  said  of  Guy's  that  is  at  all  attractive.”  ® 

1 Macaulay:  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  v. 

2 Disraeli ; Coningsby,  chap.  vi. 

® Brougham  : Statesmen  of  the  Time  of  George  III.,  vol.  ii.  p.  338. 

^ Mill : On  Liberty. 

6 Bulwer:  Kenelm  Chillingly,  vol.  i.  book  iii.  chap.  xvi. 

« The  [London]  Spectator.  (1876).  See  also  p.  112. 


Chap.  II.] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


107 


“ His  political  education  was  due  to  Jeremy  Bentham,  whom  he 
edited  and  admired.” 

“ Piano-forte  taught  and  tuned.”  * 

Brevity  which  is  purchased  by  the  omission  of  words 
necessary  to  make  the  meaning  perfect!}"  clear 

. 1 1 • 1 • 1 Omissions  in 

IS  more  excusable  in  poetry  than  in  prose,  and  imaginative 

. writing. 

Ill  dramatic,  oratorical,  or  imaginative  prose 
than  in  didactic  Avriting.  Where  the  sole  object  in 
view  is  the  instruction  of  persons  Avho  are  presumed 
to  have  ready  but  not  necessarily  alert  minds.  Perspi- 
cuity is  the  one  thing  needful : but  Avhere  an  impres- 
sion is  to  be  produced  on  the  feelings.  Perspicuity  is  of 
little  value  without  Force;  and  Force  makes  the  mind 
so  active  as  to  give  it  the  power  of  seeing  at  a glance, 
and  of  understanding  from  a hint.  In  proportion,  then, 
as  prose  approaches  poetry,  it  may  to  a limited  extent 
avail  itself  of  this  privilege  of  poetry,  as  of  others. 

To  a limited  extent  only,  however;  for  elliptical 
expressions  peculiar  to  poetry  are  in  prose  even  more 
out  of  place  than  is  poetical  language.^  Language  which 
is  not  comprehended  may  be  admired ; but  gaps  in  the 
sense  are  unbearable.  It  is  idle  to  attempt  by  such 
means  to  secure  in  prose  the  compactness,  the  elevation, 
or  the  rapidity  of  poetry.  Prose  has  a compactness,  an 
elevation,  and  a rapidity  of  its  own ; but  these  are  not 
inconsistent  with  perfect  clearness. 

Another  false  economy  is  that  of  writers  who  omit 
the  connectives  which  bind  clause  to  clause,  omission  of 
sentence  to  sentence,  and  paragraph  to  para-  connectives, 
graph.  Judiciotisly  used,  these  connectives  transform 

1 American  Newspaper. 

2 Street  sign.  Tlie  last  three  citations  may  be  regarded  as  examples,  not  only 
of  omission,  but  also  of  the  use  of  a word  in  two  senses.  See  pp.  70-72,  101. 

3 Sec  pp.  9,  10. 


108 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


a heterogeneous  collection  of  assertions  into  a compo- 
sition, a consistent  whole,  — thus  enabling  the  reader  to 
understand  the  relations  of  the  thought  with  the  lan- 
guage, to  follow  a chain  of  ideas  link  by  link,  to  per- 
ceive what  is  cause  and  what  consequence,  what  is 
principal  and  what  accessory.  “ A close  reasoner  and 
a good  writer  in  general  may  be  known  by  his  perti- 
nent use  of  connectives.”  ^ Strike  from  a page  of 
any  master  of  reasoning  every  though^  while,  hence,  ac- 
cordingly, yet,  notwithstanding,  for,  therefore,  on  the  one 
hand,  on  the  other  hand,  now,  indeed,  and  you  will  be 
surprised  to  see  how  much  is  taken  away.  The  argu- 
ment remains,  of  course  ; but  it  is  much  more  difficult 
to  follow.  You  have  shortened  the  page  by  a line  or 
two ; but  you  have  lengthened  the  time  requisite  for  its 
comprehension  by  an  appreciable  amount.  Examples  of 
the  skilful  use  of  such  connectives  are  the  following : 

“ The  capital  leading  questions  on  M'hich  you  must  this  day 
decide  are  these  two : First,  whether  you  ought  to  concede ; and 
secondly,  what  your  concession  ought  to  be.  On  the  first  of  these 
questions  we  have  gained  (as  I have  just  taken  the  liberty  of  ob- 
serving to  you)  some  ground.  But  I am  sensible  that  a good  deal 
more  is  still  to  be  done.  Indeed,  sir,  to  enable  us  to  determine  hoth 
on  the  one  and  the  other  of  these  great  questions  with  a firm  and 
precise  judgment,  I think  it  may  be  necessai^  to  consider  distinctly 
the  true  nature  and  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  object  which 
we  have  before  us.  Because  after  all  our  struggle,  whether  we  will 
or  not,  we  must  govern  America  according  to  that  nature  and  to 
those  circumstances,  and  not  according  to  our  own  imaginations ; 
nor  according  to  abstract  ideas  of  right ; by  no  means  according  to 
mere  general  theories  of  government,  the  resort  to  which  aj^pears 
to  me,  in  our  present  situation,  no  better  than  arrant  trifling.  I 
shall  therefore  endeavor,  with  your  leave,  to  lay  before  you  some  of 
the  most  material  of  these  circumstances.” 

* Coleridge : Table  Talk. 

’ Burke  ; Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  23  (Edition  1839,  Boston) ; Speeeli  on  Con- 
ciliation with  America. 


Chap.  II. J 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


109 


“ Such  was  the  spirit  of  tlie  extreme  Puritans,  both  Presbyterian 
and  Independent.  Oliver,  indeed,  was  little  disposed  to  be  eillier  a 
persecutor  or  a meddler.  Bui  Oliver,  the  head  of  a party,  and  con- 
sequenthj,  to  a great  extent,  the  slave  of  a party,  could  not  govern 
altogether  according  to  his  own  inclinations.  Even  under  his 
administration  many  magistrates,  within  their  own  jurisdiction, 
made  themselves  as  odious  as  Sir  Iludibras,  interfered  with  all  the 
pleasures  of  the  neighborhood,  dispersed  festive  meetings,  and  put 
fiddlers  in  the  stocks.  Still  more  formidable  was  the  zeal  of  the 
soldiers.  . . . 

“ AVith  the  fear  and  hatred  inspired  by  such  a tyranny  contempt 
was  largely  mingled.”  ^ 

For  one  writer  who  sins  against  Clearness  by  using 
too  few  words,  hundreds  sin  against  both  Clearness  and 
Force  by  using  too  many:  against  Clearness, 

1 ,,  1 . 7 7 . /.  7 The  fault  of 

because  “ the  greater  the  number  is  oj  the  using  too 
words  that  are  employed  in  tlie  expression 
of  a given  import,  the  less  clear  is  the  discourse  which 
they  compose  ; against  Force,  because  “ tediousness  is 
the  most  fatal  of  all  faults  ; negligences  or  errors  are 
single  or  local,  but  tediousness  pervades  the  whole ; 
other  faults  are  censured  or  forgotten,  but  the  power 
of  tediousness  propagates^  itself.”^  • 

“ Unhappily,  this  pernicious  failure  is  that  which  an  author  is 
least  able  to  discover.  AVe  are  seldom  tiresome  to  ourselves ; and 
the  act  of  composition  fills  and  delights  the  mind  with  change  of 
language  and  succession  of  images ; evejy  couplet  when  produced  is 
new,  and  novelty  is  the  great  source  of  pleasure.  Perhaps  no  man 
ever  thought  a line  superfluous  when  he  first  wrote  it,  or  contracted 
his  work  till  his  ebullitions  of  iiwention  had  subsided.”  ^ 

In  determining  tlie  proper  number  of  words  in  a given 
case,  regard  must  be  had  to  a great  variety  of  consider- 

1 Macaulaj' : History  of  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  ii. 

2 Bentham : AVorks,  vol.  viii.  p.  304. 

s Does  this  word  express  the  exact  meaning? 

^ Johnson : Life  of  Prior. 


110 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


ations.  Common-place  thoughts  on  familiar  topics  ad- 
Conciseness  briefer  expression  than  original  ideas ; 


relative. 


greater  conciseness  is  demanded  in  a book  than 
in  a newspaper  or  a speech  ; intelligent  persons  require 
less  explanation  than  ignorant  ones,  not  only  because 
of  their  superior  knowledge,  but  also  because  of  their 
superior  faculty  of  attention. 


“Nor  is  it  enough  that  the  style  be  such  as  they  [readers  or 
hearers]  are  capable  of  understanding,  if  they  bestow  their  utmost 
attention : the  degree  and  the  kind  of  attention  which  they  have 
been  accustomed  or  are  ULelij  to  bestow  will  be  among  the  circum- 
stances that  are  to  be  taken  into  the  account,  and  provided  for.  I 
say  the  kind,  as  well  as  the  degree,  of  attention,  because  some 
hearers  and  readers  will  be  found  slow  of  apprehension  indeed,  but 
capable  of  taking  in  what  is  very  copiously  and  gradually  explained 
to  them;  while  others,  on  the  contrary,  who  are  much  quicker  at 
catching  the  sense  of  what  is  expressed  in  a short  compass,  are  in- 
capable of  long  attention,  and  are  not  only  wearied,  but  absolutely 
bewildered,  by  a diffuse  style.”  ^ 


Whatever  the  subject,  whatever  the  character  of  the 
persons  addressed,  one  should  avoid  the  extreme  of 
Extremes  to  ^xcessive  couciseness  on  the  one  hand,  and 
be  ^roided.  q£  cliffuseness  on  the  other : the  former, 
because  the  mind  requires  a certain  period  of  time  to 
understand  a thought,  and  a still  longer  period  to  feel 
its  force ; the  latter,  because  the  instant  a reader  or  a 
listener  perceives  the  presence  of  unnecessary  words, 
that  instant  his  attention  flags. 

Of  course  the  practical  question  is  how  to  secure  the 
interest  of  a number  of  persons  differing  in  intelligence, 
in  experience,  and  in  habits  of  attention. 

Generally,  this  result  can  be  reached  by  the  presen- 
tation of  a thought  in  several  ways,  each  one  of  which 

1 Whately : Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  i.  sect.  ii.  See  also  De  Quincey:  Essay 
0!i  Style. 


Chap.  II.] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


Ill 


shall  be  so  distinct  in  appearance  from  the  others 
as  to  disguise  their  identity  in  substance.  What  has 
been  said  directly  may  be  repeated  indirectly  ; 
the  abstract  may  be  reproduced  in  a concrete 
form,  the  literal  in  a metaphor ; an  object  may  •‘‘^petition, 
be  looked  at  from  a new  point  of  view ; an  argument 
may  be  presented  in  a variety  of  forms.  Tlie  discourse 
should  continually  ascend  in  interest,  the  less  general 
coming  after  the  more  general,  the  address  to  the  pas- 
sions or  the  feelings  coming  after  the  explanation  to  the 
understanding,  the  most  concise  statement  being  placed 
at  the  end.^  Of  this  kind  of  repetition  Burke  was  a 
master,  as  the  following  citations  show : — 

“ Pov/er,  of  some  kind  or  other,  will  survive  the  shock  in  which 
manners  and  opinions  perish;  and  it  will  find  other  and  worse 
means  for  its  support.  The  usurpation  which,  in  order  to  subvert 
ancient  institutions,  has  destroyed  ancient  principles,  will  hold 
power  by  arts  similar  to  those  by  which  it  has  acquired  it.  When 
the  old  feudal  and  chivalrous  spirit  of  fealty,  which,  by  freeing 
kings  from  fear,  freed  both  kings  and  subjects  from  the  precautions 
of  tyranny,  shall  be  extinct  in  the  minds  of  men,  plots  and  assassi- 
nations wdll  be  anticipated  by  preventive  murder  and  preventive 
confiscation,  and  that  long  roll  of  grim  and  bloody  maxims,  which 
form  2 the  political  code  of  all  pow'er  not  standing  on  its  own  honor, 
and  the  honor  of  those  who  are  to  obey  it.  Kings  will  he  tyrants 
from  policy  when  subjects  are  rebels  from  principle.”  * 

‘ ‘ Example,  the  only  argument  of  effect  in  civil  life,  demon- 
strates the  truth  of  my  proposition.  Nothing  can  alter  my  opinion 
concerning  the  pernicious  tendency  of  this  example,  until  I see 
some  man  for  his  indiscretion  in  the  support  of  power,  for  his  vio- 
lent and  intemperate  servility,  rendered  incapable  of  sitting  in 
parliament.  For  as  it  now  stands,  the  fault  of  overstraining  pop- 
ular qualities,  and,  irregularly  if  you  please,  asserting  popular 
privileges,  has  led  to  disqualification ; the  opposite  fault  never  has 

1 Sec  p.  13-3.  “ See  p.  33. 

s luivUe:  Work-s  vol.  iii.  p.  100;  Reflections  on  the  Revolution  in  Trance. 


112 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


produced  the  slightest  punishment.  Resistance  to  poicer  has  shut 
the  door  of  the  House  of  Commons  to  one  man;  obsequiousness  and 
servility,  to  none.”  ^ 

De  Quincey  also  furnishes  a good  example;  — 

“In  tliat  great  social  organ  which  collectively  we  call  literature, 
there  may  be  distinguished  two  separate  offices  that  may  blend, 
and  often  do  so,  but  ^ capable,  severally,  of  a severe  insulation,  and 
naturally  fitted  for  reciprocal  repulsion.  There  is,  first,  the  liter- 
ature of  knowledge,  and  secondly,  the  literature  of  power.  The 
function  of  the  first  is  — to  teach ; the  function  of  the  second  is  — 
to  move:  the  first  is  a rudder,  the  second,  an  oar  or  a sail.”  ^ 

Simple  iterations  of  phrase  are  sometimes  very  ef- 
fective ; as  in  the  Bible,  in  the  old  ballads,  in  Milton, 
Scott,  Tennyson,  and  other  poets : ^ but  they  have  no 
place  in  modern  prose. 

Powerful  as  an  instrument  of  genius,  repetition  is 
often  used  to  hide  poverty  of  thought.  A statement 
Unskilful  which  was  hardly  worth  making  once  is  re- 
repetition.  peated  in  slightly  varying  forms,  until  the  be- 
wildered reader  doubts  whether  behind  so  much  smoke 
there  is  any  fire.  A writer  who  repeats  himself  in  this 
way  may  know  what  he  is  doing ; but  usually  he  does 
not  stop  to  inquire  whether  there  is  enough  differ-* 
ence  between  two  expressions  to  warrant  him  in  using 
both.  To  please  the  ear  is  much  easier  than  to  satisfy 
the  mind ; to  shadow  forth  an  idea  in  several  tolerable 
shapes  costs  less  pains  than  to  present  the  same  idea  in 
the  best  shape.  It  is  painful  to  think  how  many  books 
would  shrink  to  a tenth  of  their  size,  were  unneces- 
sary repetitions  expunged;  how  many  “leaders”  would 
dwindle  into  paragraphs ; how  many  sermons  and  ora- 

1 Burke : Works,  vol.  i.  p.  400 ; Thoughts  on  tlie  Present  Discontents. 

2 See  p.  100. 

® De  Quincey : Essay  on  Alexander  Pope.  See  also  pp.  129,  146,  180. 

^ See  examples  cited  by  Emerson:  Letters  and  Social  Aims,  p.  42. 


Chap.  II.] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


113 


tions  into  five-minute  discourses ; how  many  boys’  and 
girls’  compositions  would  prove  to  be  nothing  more  than 
amplifications  of  the  text  in  weaker  language. 

“ Siinjily  to  retrench  one  word  from  each  sentence,  one  super- 
fluous epithet,  for  example,  would  probably  increase  the  disposable 
time  of  the  public  by  one-twelfth  part  ; in  other  words,  would  add 
another  month  to  the  year,  or  raise  any  sum  of  volumes  read  from 
eleven  to  twelve  hundred.  A mechanic  operation  would  effect  that 
change  ; but,  by  cultivating  a closer  logic  and  more  severe  habits 
of  thinking,  perhaps  two  sentences  out  of  each  three  might  be 
pruned  away ; and  the  amount  of  possible  publication  might  thus 
be  increased  in  a threefold  degree.”  ^ 

Tautology  — or  the  fault  of  saying  again  exactly  what 
has  iust  been  said  — is  the  crudest  form  of 

. , , , T-,  Tautology. 

repetition,  and  is  never  excusable.  b or  ex- 
ample : — 

‘‘Let  observation,  witli  extensive  vieiv, 

Survey  mankind  from  China  to  Peru.”  * 

Or,  as  the  lines  have  been  translated  into  prose;  “ Let  observation 
with  extensive  observation  observe  mankind  extensively.” 

“ He  was  by  no  means  deficient  in  the  subordinate  and  limited  vii'- 
tue  which  alleviates  and  relieves  the  wants  of  others.”  ® 

. Mr.  Borthrop  Trumbull,  the  auctioneer  of  Middlemarch,  who 
“ never  used  poor  language  wdthout  immediately  correcting  him- 
self,” might  furnish  several  examples;  for  instance:  — 

“ ‘ Oh,  yes,  anybody  may  asb.  Anybody  may  interrogate.  Any- 
one may  give  their  remarks  an  interrogative  turn.  ...  A very  nice 
thing,  a very  superior  publication,  entitled  ‘ Ivanhoe.’  You  will  not 
get  any  writer  to  beat  him  in  a hurry,  I think:  he  will  not  in  my 
opinion  speedily  be  surpassed.  . . . I hope  some  one  will  tell  me  ; I hope 
some  individual  will  apprise  me  of  the  fact.'  " 

Macaulay’s  example  from  Dr.  Johnson  is  well-known:  — 

” ‘ The  Rehearsal,’  he  said,  very  unjustly,  ‘has  not  wit  enough 

' De  Quincey : Essay  on  Style.  See  p.  60. 

2 Johnson  : The  I'auity  of  Human  Wishes. 

* Scott : The  Talisman,  chap.  vii. 

♦ George  Eliot : RlidUlemarch,  book  iii.  chap.  xxxiL 


114 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


10  keep  it  sweet ; ’ then,  after  a pause,  ‘ it  has  not  vitality  enough  to 
jveserve  it  from  putrefaction.’  ” ^ 

“In  i^articular,  there  was  a sensation  of  cabbage;  as  if  all  the 
greens  that  had  ever  been  boiled  there  were  evergreens^  and  flour- 
ished in  immortal  strength.”  ^ 

Additional  phrases,  although  not  exact  reproductions 
of  what  has  been  said,  may  add  nothing  worth  adding. 
For  example : — 

“ He  [the  engine-driver]  preserved  a composure  so  immovable,  and 
an  indifference  so  complete,  that,  if  the  locomotive  had  been  a sucking 
pig,  he  could  not  have  been  more  perfectly  indiff'erent  to  its  doings.”  ^ 

“ He  [Prior]  had  infused  into  it  [‘  Solomon  ’]  much  knowledge 
and  much  thought;  had  often  polished  it  to  elegance,  often  dignified 
it  with  splendor,  and  sometimes  heightened  it  to  sublimity;  he 
perceived  in  it  many  excellences,  and  did  not  discover  that  it 
wanted  that  without  which  all  others  are  of  small  avail,  the  power 
of  engaging  attention  and  alluring  curiosity.”  ® 

‘ ‘ Every  one  that  resided  in  the  valley  was  required  to  propose 
whatever  might  contribute  to  make  seclusion  pleasant,  to  Jill  up  the 
vacancies  of  attention,  and  lessen  the  tediousness  of  time.”  ^ 

“ Ilis  head  he  raised  — there  was  in  sight ; 

It  caught  his  eye,  he  saw  it  plain  — 

Upon  the  house-top,  glittering  bright, 

A broad  and  gilded  vane.”  ^ 

“ The  very  first  discovery  of  it  strikes  the  mind  with  an  inward  joy,  • 
and  spreads  a cheerfulness  and  delight  through  all  the  faculties.”  ^ 

Words  that  are  habitually  coupled  come  to  constitute 
a single  idea,  which  requires  both  words  for  its  full 
expression. 

Such  are;  ways  and  means,  end  and  aim,  intents  and  purposes, 
metes  and  hounds,  safe  and  sound,  null  and  void,  “ to  the  best  of 
my  knowledge  and  belief  f part  and  parcel,  sum  and  substance. 

1 Essay  on  Boswell’s  Johnson.  For  the  preference  between  these  two  ex- 
pressions, see  p.  79.  ^ Dickens ; IMartin  Chuzzlewit,  chaps,  viii.,  xxi. 

^ Johnson:  Life  of  Prior.  The  first  part  of  this  sentence  is,  perhaps,  ver- 
bose rather  than  tautological ; see  p.  120.  See,  however,  De  Quincey : 
Essay  on  Rhetoric,  note  vii.  ^ Johnson  : Rasselas,  chap.  i. 

» Wordsworth  : Poetical  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  193  (Centenary  Edition) , 
Anecdote  for  Fathers.  ® Addison  : The  Spectator.  No.  413. 


CUAP.  II.] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


115 


Many  common  expressions,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
justly  chargeable  with  Tautology;  as, — 

“ Prominent  and  lawyers,”  “ hold  and  audacious  robbers,” 

“ a usual  and  ordinary  occurrence,”  “ rules  and  regulations.”  ^ 


Redundancy  (or  Pleonasm)  consists,  not  like  Tautol- 
ogy in  the  repetition  of  an  idea  in  other  language,  but 
in  the  addition  of  useless  words.  Instances 
have  already  been  given  of  redundant  words  ; ^ 
but  no  other  fault  in  composition  assumes  more  various 
forms  than  this.  For  example  : — 


Eedundancy. 


“They  returned  lacTc  again  to  the  cMj  from,  whence®  tlicy  came 
forth." 

“ Throughout  his  whole  career.” 

“ I rejoiced  at  the  glad  sight.” 

“ Somehow  or  other."  “ Some  way  or  other" 

“ I have  got  a cold,  together  with  fever.” 

“ There  is  nothing  which  disgusts  us  sooner  than  the  empty  pomp 
of  language.” 

“Keep  off  of  the  grass.” 

“ Being  content  with  deserving  a triumph,  he  refused  to  receive 
the  honor  that  was  offered  him.” 

“ There  can  be  no  doubt  hut  that  newspapers  at  present  are  read 
altogether  too  much.” 

“ Common  usage  is  not  uniform  and  invariable.”  ® 

“ By  a multiplicity  of  words  the  sentiment  is  not  set  off  and 
accommodated,  but,  like  David  equipped  in  Saul’s  armor,  it  is 
encumbered  and  oppressed.”* 

“ He  rushed  into  the  yard  without  his  cockeddiat, — which^  is  a 
very  curious  and  remarkable  circumstance;  as  showing  that  even 
a beadle,  acted  upon  by  a sudden  and  powerful  impulse,  may  be 
afflicted  with  a momentary  visitation  of  loss  of  self-possession  and 
forgetfulness  of  personal  dignity.”  ® 


1 See  p.  60.  2 See  p.  14. 

* Whately : Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  xil. 
■*  Campbell : Rhetoric,  book  iii.  part  ii.  chap.  ii. 
s See  p.  44. 

‘ Dickens:  Oliver  Twist,  chap.  viii. 

6 


116 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


Superlative  forms  — as,  venj^  too,  so  — are  redundant  when  not 
required  by  the  sense.  Thus : — 

“ Care  must  of  course  be  taken  that  the  repetition  may  not  be 
too  glaringly  apparent.”  i 

The  judicious  use  of  connective  particles  — “ the  joints 
Misuse  of  or  hinges  on  which  sentences  turn”^ — is  a 
connectives,  mgrit  of  Style  ; ^ but  their  misuse  is  a seri- 
ous blemish.  There  are,  however,  so  many  varieties 
of  error  as  to  preclude  a system  of  rules.  “ Attention 
to  the  practice  of  the  most  accurate  writers,  joined  witli 
fi-equent  trials  of  the  different  effects  produced  by  a dif- 
ferent usage  of  those  particles,  must  here  direct  us.”  ^ A 
connective  which  serves  no  purpose  is  worse  than  useless, 
and  one  used  for  an  unsuitable  purpose  leads  astray. 

And  and  but  are  frequent  offenders  in  both  ways.  They  should 

, , , always  connect  words  or  clauses  closely  related  in 

And  and  but.  ... 

meaning  and  similar  in  construction, — and,hj  way 

of  addition  (as  in  “ poor  and  honest  ”) ; but,  by  way  of  subtraction 
or  opposition  (as  in  “ poor  but  honest”). 

A composition  should  never  begin  with  and  or  but;  for,  if  nothing 
comes  before  the  conjunction,  there  is  nothing  for  it  to  connect  with 
what  comes  after:  and  a paragraph  should  rarely  so  begin,  for 
a new  paragraph  indicates  that  there  is  a break  in  the  sense  too  im- 
portant to  be  bridged  by  a conjunction.  A similar  objection  might 
be  taken  to  the  employment  of  these  words  at  the  beginning  of  a 
sentence ; but  for  this  there  is  much  good  usage.  In  many  cases, 
however,  two  sentences  connected  by  and  or  but  will  be  clearer  if 
thrown  into  one ; and  in  many  others  it  will  be  found  that  and  or 
but,  at  the  beginning  of  a sentence,  not  only  serves  no  purpose,  but 
keeps  an  important  word  out  of  an  emphatic  place. 

An  example  of  the  fault  last  mentioned  may  be  taken  from  a 
writer  who  is  comparatively  free  from  such  faults.  In  “English 
Writers  on  America,”  Irving,®  after  enumerating  a number  of  rea- 

1 Whately;  Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  i.  sect.  ii.  See  also  p.  60. 

2 Blair:  Rhetoric,  loot.  xii.  3 gee  p.  107. 

^ Blair:  Rhetoric,  lect.  xii.  5 Sketch  Book,  p.  74. 


Chap.  II. J 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


117 


sons  why  Americans  should  not  indulge  national  prejudices,  goes 
On  to  say : — 

“ But  above  all  let  us  not  be  influenced  by  any  angry  feelings,  so 
far  as  to  shut  our  eyes  to  the  perception  of  what  is  really  excellent 
and  amiable  in  the  English  character.” 

This  sentence,  so  far  from  saying  any  thing  in  opposition  to  what 
was  said  in  the  pi'eceding  paragraph,  continues  the  same  line  of 
thought.  But  is,  therefore,  superfluous,  if  not  ahso  misleading; 
above  all,  an  adverbial  expression  which  not  only  forms  an  essential 
part  of  the  sentence,  but  also  serves  as  a conjunction,  should  begin 
the  paragraph. 

“ The  Romans  were  fortunate  in  having  so  many  words  to  ex- 
press hut,  another  sad  stumbling  block  to  us.  Our  language  is 
much  deformed  by  the  necessity  of  its  recurrence;  and  I know 
not  any  author  who  has  taken  gi-eat  pains  to  avoid  it  where  he 
could.”  1 

The  unnecessai'y  repetition  of  and  enfeebles  style.*  “ It  has 
the  same  sort  of  effect  as  the  frequent  use  of  the  vulgar  phrase, 
and  so,  when  one  is  telling  a story  in  common  conversation;”® 
or  of  and  now*  in  a newspaper  paragraph,  or  of  a drawding  tone  in 
speaking.  Rapidity,  on  the  other  hand,  is  given  by  the  omission 
of  and  from  a place  in  which  it  would  usually  be  employed.  “ Veni, 
vidi,  vici,  expresses  with  more  spirit  the  rapidity  and  quick  succes- 
sion of  conquests,  than  if  connecting  particles  had  been  used.”  ® 
AVhen,  however,  a writer  desires  to  make  the  mind  rest  on  each  one 
of  a number  of  objects,  which  he  enumerates  in  succession,  each 
should  be  separated  from  every  other  by  a conjunction.  The  fol- 
lowing examples  will  make  this  plain:  — 

“O’er  many  a frozen,  many  a.  Alp, 

Rocks,  caves,  lakes,  fens,  boys,  dens,  and  .diadcs  of  death, 

A universe  of  death.”  ® 

“Or  other  worlds  they  seem’d,  or  happy  isles, 

Like  those  Hesperian  gardens,  fam’d  of  old, 

Fortunate  fields,  and  groves,  and  flowery  vales. 

Thrice  happy  isles.”  ® 

t Landor:  Works,  Third  Series,  p.  226  (Am.  ed.). 

* Sec  p.  120.  ® Blair:  Rhetoric,  lect.  xii. 

< See  p.  8.  ® Blair  : Rhetoric,  lect.  xii.  See  also  p.  134. 

fi  Milton  : Paradise  Lost,  book  ii.  line  620;  book  iii.  line  567. 


118 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


A common  form  of  Redundancy  is  in  the  accumula- 
tion of  adjectives,  particularly  of  those  which  are  mere 
epithets  ; ^ that  is,  words  which  in  no  way  affect  the  mean- 
uedniKiant  nouu  they  are  put  on}  hut  which 

epithets,  express  something  already  implied  in  the 
noun.  When  Homer  speaks  of  ‘■'■wet  waves,”  '■'“white 
milk,”  he  uses  epithets ; for  everybody  knows  that 
waves  are  wet  and  that  milk  is  white.  “ Tims,  too,  in 
our  own  national  songs,  Douglas  is  almost  always  the 
doughty  Douglas  ; England  is  merry  England  : all  the 
gold  is  red;  and  all  the  ladies  are  gay.”^  Sucli  ex- 
pressions may  be  permitted  in  a poem  that  imitates  the 
style  of  the  old  ballads,  and,  perhaps,  in  a translation  of 
Plomer ; but  no  sensible  author  would  think  of  using 
them  in  modern  prose.  Yet  he  whose  sun  is  always 
glorious,”  whose  snow  is  always  “feathery,”  whose 
moonlight  is  always  “ soft,”  whose  groves  are  always 
“shady,”  whose  impudence  is  always  “bold,”  whose 
heroes  are  always  “ noble,”  differs  only  in  degree  from 
him  whose  waves  are  “ wet.”  Writers  of  this  class,  not 
content  with  a single  epithet,  habitually  use  two,  or 
even  three,  as  if  they  expected  by  putting  cipher  after 
cipher  to  make  a unit. 

So  common  a fault  is  this  that  some  critics  have  made 
war  upon  the  adjective,  as  if  it  were  a part  of  speech 
peculiarly  liable  to  abuse.  They  would  have  a young 
writer  strike  out  of  his  compositions  every 

Unwise  ad-  , . . - . . , . - . 

vice  to  young  adiective,  as  other  critics  advise  him  to  omit 

writers.  •' 

every  passage  which  he  particularly  likes  ; but 
both  counsels  are  grounded  on  the  unwarranted  as- 
sumption either  that  a young  writer  has  no  judgment, 

1 Tb  iirldeTov  (adjective),  from  iirtriOiini  (adiciv),  add,  place  on,  put  on- 

2 Macaulay  : Lays  of  Ancient  Rome. 


Chap.  II.] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


119 


or  that  he  is  more  likely  to  be  bombastic  than  to  be 
tame.  Undoubtedly,  the  judgment  of  a young  writer 
is  less  trustworthy  than  that  of  a writer  of  experi- 
ence ; and,  on  that  very  account,  he  needs  to  make 
himself  familiar  with  the  best  models  of  style,  and  to 
subnnt  his  compositions  to  criticism : but  to  counsel 
him  to  total  abstinence  in  this  thing  or  in  that  is  to 
teach  him  temperance  in  nothing.  Undoubtedly,  he 
should  avoid  tawdry  epithets  ; but  he  should  be  at  least 
equally  upon  his  guard  against  uninterested  and  unin- 
teresting tameness.  One  might  as  well  prohibit  the  use 
of  figurative  language  because  mixed  metaphors  are 
worse  than  none,  as  to  recommend  the  disuse  of  adjec- 
tives because  they  are  often  misused. ^ 

Epithets  are  of  service  when  they  fix  the  attention 
upon  a quality  which,  although  implied  in  the  serviceable 
noun,  needs  to  be  made  emphatic.  epithets. 

If,  for  example,  a writer  wi.slies  to  contrast  the  liglit  of  the  moon 
or  its  associations  with  those  of  a conflagration,  he  will  naturally 
and  properly  term  the  moonlight  “ soft  ” or  “ gentle.” 

If,  for  sophistical  reasons,  an  American  orator  wishes  to  connect 
patriotic  memories  with  a question  of  the  currency,  he  does  well  to 
sound  the  praises  of  “ the  hatlle-horn  greenback,”  — the  argument 
lurking  in  an  adjective  which  really  implies  nothing  beyond  the 
well-known  fact  that  the  national  currency  was  issued  to  pay  the 
expenses  of  the  recent  Civil  War.  In  like  manner,  the  dollar  of  our 
fathers  was  used  in  the  United  States  (in  1877)  as  an  argument 
for  making  silver  a legal  tender.* 

In  the  sentence,  “We  ought  to  take  warning  by  the  Moody 
revolution  of  France”  (Whately’s  example  under  this  head),  the 
italicized  word,  tliough  only  an  epithet  for  all  who  know  any  thing 
about  the  French  Revolution,  may  be  made  to  serve  as  an  argu- 
ment against  any  revolution. 

1 In  pueris  oratio  perfecta  nec  exigi  nec  sperari  potest ; melior  autem  indoles 
laeta  generosique  conatus  et  vel  pliira  iusto  concipiens  interim  spiritus.  — Quiiv- 
tilian  : Inst.  Orator,  ii.  iv.  iv.  “ Sco  p.  192. 


120 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


A word  which  would  be  an  epithet,  if  joined  to  a 
noun  in  its  proper  sense,  may  be  necessary  to  explain 
the  meaning  of  a metaplior. 

Thus  one  would  not  properly  speak  of  “ the  winged  eagle;  ” but 
when  iEschylus  calls  the  eagle  “ the  winged  hound  of  Jove,”  the 
adjective  becomes  indispensable  to  the  sense. 

Verbosity  differs  from  Tautology  and  Pleonasm  in  the 

Verbosity  intimately  pervades  a sentence 

or  a paragraph  as  to  be  incurable  by  the  exci- 
sion of  words  or  even  clauses.  Sometimes,  indeed,  a 
verbose  sentence  should  be  erased  as  being  altogether 
redundant ; but  if  it  makes  a real  addition  to  what  has 
already  been  said,  it  should  be  recast  in  fewer  words. 

The  paraphrase  is,  confessedly,  one  form  of  Verbosity, 
its  object  being  to  say  in  many  words  what  has  already 
been  said  in  few.  It  has  been  likened  to  a torpedo, 
which  “ benumbs  what  it  touches.” 

Dr.  Campbein  cites  from  an  author  [Dr.  Clarke],  who  “is  far 
from  deserving  to  be  accounted  either  the  most  verbose  or  the  least 
judicious  of  the  tribe  [of  paraphrasts] , ” a paraphrase  from  the  fol- 
lowing text:  “ Therefore,  whosoever  heareth  these  sayings  of  mine, 
and  doeth  them,  I will  liken  him  unto  a wise  man,  which  built  his 
house  upon  a rock:  and  the  rain  descended,  and  the  floods  came, 
and  the  winds  blew,  and  beat  upon  that  house,  and  it  fell  not;  for 
it  was  founded  upon  a rock.”  ^ Now,  says  Dr.  Campbell,  “let  us 
hear  the  paraphrast:  ‘Wherefore  he  that  shall  not  only  Zicar  and 
receive  these  my  instructions,  but  also  rememher,  and  consider,  and 
practise,  and^  live  according  to  them,  such  a man  may  be  compared 
to  one  that  builds  his  house  upon  a rock;  for  as  a house  founded 
upon  a rock  stands  unshaken  and  firm  against  all  the  assaults  of 
rains,  and  floods,  and®  storms,  so  the  man  who,  in  his  life  and  con- 
versation, actually  pj-actises  and  obeys  my  instructions,  will  firmly 
resist  all  the  temptations  of  the  devil,  the  allurements  of  pleasure, 

1 Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  book  iii.  part  ii.  chap.  ii. 

2 Matthew  vii.  24,  25.  ® See  p.  117. 


Chat.  II, ] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


121 


and  the  terrors  of  persecution,  and  shall  be  able  to  stand  in  the  day 
of  judgment,  and  be  rewarded  of  God.’  ” 

Another  example  may  be  taken  from  a veiy  different  source : 

“ I remember  the  relief  with  which,  after  long  feeling  the  sway 
of  Franklin’s  imperturbable  common-sense,  I came  upon  a project 
of  his  for  a new  version  of  the  Book  of  Job,  to  replace  the  old  ver- 
sion, the  style  of  which,  says  Franklin,  has  become  obsolete,  and 
thence  less  agreeable.  ‘ I give,’  he  continues,  ‘ a few  verses,  which 
may  serve  as  a sample  of  the  kind  of  version  I would  recommend.  ’ 
IVe  all  recollect  the  famous  verse  in  our  translation : ‘ Then  Satan 
answered  the  Lord,  and  said:  “ Doth  Job  fear  God' for  nought  ?”  ’ 
Franklin  makes  this:  ‘ Does  Your  Majesty  imagine  that  Job’s  good 
conduct  is  the  effect  of  mei'e  personal  attachment  and  affection  V ’ 
I well  remember  how,  when  first  I read  that,  I drew  a deep  breath 
of  relief,  and  said  to  myself  : ‘ After  all,  there  is  a stretch  of 
humanity  beyond  Franklin’s  victorious  good  sense.’ 

Paraphrases  of  this  character  are,  it  is  to  be  hoped, 
more  rare  noAV-a-days  than  they  were  a century  ago ; 
but  they  are  still  in  favor  with  a certain  class  of  preach- 
ers, Avhether  clerical  or  lay,  whether  writing  in  prose 
or  in  verse.  They  are  not  unknown  in  newspapers  and 
magazines,  but  seem  especially  to  thrive  in  a Inke- 
warm  moral  atmosphere. 

The  circumlocution  (or  periphrasis)  is  another  form  of 
verbosity. 

Its  nature  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  passage:  — 

“ All  the  assembled  wits  burst  into  a laugh  when,  after  much 
blank-verse  pomp,  the  poet  began  a new  paragraph  thus : — 

“ ‘Now,  Muse,  let’s  sing  of  rats.’ 

And  what  increased  the  ridicule  was,  that  one  of  the  company, 
who  slily  overlooked  the  reader,  perceived  that  the  word  had  been 
originally  mice,  and  had  been  altered  to  rats,  as  more  dignified. 

1 Matthew  Arnold:  Culture  and  Anarchy,  chap.  i.  p.  40.  The  whole  of  this 
remarkable  translation,  which  served  as  part  of  apolitical  squib,  and  was  classed 
by  its  author  witli  other  “bagatelles,”  may  be  found  in  Franklin:  AVorks, 
vol  ii.  p.  lOG  (Sparks’s  edition).  Query  whether  Franklin  seriously  regarded 
the  language  he  used  as  an  improvement  on  the  old  version. 


122 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


“ This  passage  does  not  appear  in  the  printed  work;  Dr.  Grain- 
ger, however,  . . . could  not  bring  liimself  to  relinquish  the  idea, 
for  they  [the  rats]  are  thus,  in  a still  more  ludicrous  manner, 
periphrastically  exhibited  in  his  poem  as  it  now  stands: — . 

“ ‘Nor  with  less  waste  the  whiskered  vermin  race, 

A countless  clan,  despoiled  the  lowland  cane.’  ” t 

Sometimes,  indeed,  a circnmlocution  serves  a useful 

Useful  cir-  PUrpOSe. 
cumlocutions.  ,,,.  , , . 

Addison’s  designation  of  a fan  as  “ this  little  modish 

machine,”  suggests  its  deliberate  use  as  a weapon  in  the  warfare  of 
polite  society;  Swift’s  parenthetical  allusion  to  Defoe  (“  the  fellow 
that  was  piUoried,  I have  forgot  his  name,”)  ^ is  a skilful  attack 
on  an  enemy;  Cicero’s  statement,® not  that  Milo’s  servants  killed 
Clodius,  but  that  they  “ did  that  which  every  one  would  have 
wished  his  servants  to  do  in  a similar  case,”  is  an  argument; 
Homer’s  periphrastic  expressions  for  the  act  of  dying  veil  an  un- 
pleasant fact  and  add  a dramatic  effect ; and  Landor  might  plead 
several  reasons  for  his  manner  of  saying  that  some  critics  resemble 
monkeys : — 

“ There  is  hardly  a young  author  who  does  not  make  his  first 
attempt  in  some  review;  showing  his  teeth,  hanging  by  his  tail, 
pleased  and  pleasing  with  the  volubility  of  his  chatter,  and  doing 
his  best  to  get  a penny  for  his  exhibitor  and  a nut  for  his  own 
pouch,  by  the  facetiousness  of  the  tricks  he  performs  upon  our 
heads  and  shoulders.”  ^ 

Every  word  in  Milton’s  lines  — 

“ . . . from  mom 

To  noon  he  fell,  from  noon  to  dewy  eve, 

A summer’s  day;  and  with  the  setting  sun 
Dropt  from  the  zenith  like  a falling  star  ” ® — 

adds  to  the  effect.  “ Mliat  art,”  says  Webster,®  “ is  manifest  in 
these  few  lines  ! The  object  is  to  express  great  distance  and 
great  velocity,  neither  of  which  is  capable  of  very  easy  suggestion 

1 Boswell : Life  of  Johnson. 

2 A Letter  concerning  the  Sacramental  Test. 

3 In  his  oration  for  Milo.  ^ Landor:  Works,  chap.  iv.  p.  21. 

5 Milton  : Paradise  Lost,  book  i.  line  742. 

® Daniel  Webster:  Private  Correspondence,  vol.  i.  p.  405. 


Chap.  II. J 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


123 


to  the  liuman  mind.  We  are  told  that  the  angel  fell  a day,  a long 
summer’s  day;  the  day  is  broken  into  forenoon  and  afternoon,  that 
the  time  may  seem  to  be  protracted.  lie  does  not  reach  the  earth 
till  sunset;  and  then,  to  represent  the  velocity,  he  ‘ drops,’ — one 
of  the  very  best  words  in  the  language  to  signify  sudden  and  rapid 
fall;  and  then  comes  a simile,  ‘ like  a falling  star.’  ” 


Usually,  however,  circumlocutions  are 
ways  of  saying  what  might  better  be  said 
directly. 


circuitous 

"NVealc  cir- 
cumloculioiis. 


“ The  lamp  of  day,”  ” the  fair  sex,”  “ the  morning  meal,”  “ the 
dental  organs,”  are  weak  ways  of  designating  the  sun,  woman, 
breakfast,  teeth. ^ 

“ At  the  time  of  the  Irish  famine,  no  clergyman  could  bring 
himself  to  say  the  word  ‘ jiotato  ’ in  the  pulpit.  Preachers  called 
it  ‘ that  root  upon  which  so  many  thousands  of  God’s  creatures  de- 
pended for  support,  and  which  in  Ills  wuse  purposes  had  for  a time 
ceased  to  flouri.sh ; ’ or  spoke  of  ‘ that  esculent  succulent,  the  loss 
of  which  had  deprived  so  many  hungry  sinners  of  their  daily  sus- 
tenance; ’ but  no  one  said  ‘ potato.’  ” ^ 

“Instead  of  stabbing,  Dryden  ‘with  steel  invades  the  life;’ 
IMr.  Bruce,  in  a Danish  w’ar-song,  calls  on  the  Vikings  to  ‘ assume 
their  oars.’  Savage  writes:  — 

• “ ‘ In  front,  a parlor  meets  my  entering  view. 

Oppos’d,  a room  to  sweet  refection  due.’  ” * 

AVords worth’s  Mn.se,  disdaining  to  sing  of  a sore  throat,  says: 

“ The  winds  of  March,  smiting  insidiously, 
ltdised  in  the  tender  passage  of  the  throat 
Viewless  obstruction.’'  * 


Covvper,  unwilling  to  wTite  of  the  discharge  of  a gun,  says: 
“ Such  is  the  clamor  of  rooks,  daws,  and  kites. 

The  explosion  of  the  levell’d  tube  excites.”  ^ 


1 See  also  p.  79. 

- Itlacmillan’s  Magazine.  (187G.)  Rufus  Choate  is  said  to  have  talked  to  a 
jury  about  “ that  delicious  esculent  of  the  tropics,  — the  squash.” 

3 J.  R.  Lowell : Among  my  Books ; Essay  on  Dryden. 

^ Poetical  Works,  vol.  vi.  p.  247 ; Tlie  Excursion,  book  vii. 

^ Cowper : Hope. 


124 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


Circumlocutions  sometimes  arise  from  an  effort  to 
avoid  the  repetition  of  a word,  sometimes  from 

Sources  of  , , , . , , . . „ . , 

circumio-  would-ue  Wit,  and  sometimes  irom  a vain  at- 
tempt to  elevate  the  style. ^ The  fault  is  still 
more  serious  when  they  come  from  confusion  of  thought. 
A writer  whose  ideas  are  not  clear,  or  who  does  not 
know  how  to  express  them,  is  apt  to  wander  about  a 
point  instead  of  going  straight  to  it.  He  has  a vague 
feeling  that  his  readers  will,  in  course  of  time,  come  to 
understand  him  as  well,  at  least,  as  he  understands 
himself ; but  they  are  more  likely  to  be  so  bewildered 
or  so  fatigued  by  the  multitude  of  words,  that  the 
thought  will  escape  them  in  part,  if  not  altogether : in 
part,  if  they  confine  their  attention  to  one  of  the 
threads  of  thought  which  cross  and  recross  one  an- 
other ; altogether,  if  they  cannot  find  their  way  through 
the  tangle. 

Prolixity  — the  enumeration  of  things  either  unim- 
portant, or  so  obvious  that  they  might  have  been  left 
to  the  reader  to  supply  from  the  context  or 
from  his  general  knowledge  — is  another  form 
of  Verbosity.  A bad  story-teller  gives  the  same  promi- 
nence to  the  subordinate  or  incidental  parts  of  his  nar- 
rative as  to  the  important  and  essential  ones  ; a good 
story-teller  fixes  attention  upon  the  cardinal  points,  the 
individual  circumstances,  and  leaves  the  rest  to  the  im- 
agination.2  One  of  the  things  which  distinguish  the 
historian  from  the  mere  chronicler  is  the  skilful  use 
of  historical  perspective.  In  reasoning,  he  Avho  makes 
every  step  of  the  process  a syllogism  will  exhaust  his 
readers  long  before  he  reaches  the  conclusion ; he  who 
goes  slowly  where  the  path  is  difficult,  and  rapidly 

1 See  p.  79.  ^ gge  p.  171. 


Chap.  II.] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


125 


where  it  is  easy,  will  bring  his  readers  to  the  end  with- 
out unnecessary  fatigue. 

Tlie  second  of  the  two  sentences  which  follow,  tells  a person  of 
average  intelligence  all  that  is  said  at  length  in  the  first  one:  — 

“ On  receiving  this  message,  he  arose  from  his  chair,  put  on  his 
coat  and  hat,  took  his  umbrella,  went  dowmstairs,  walked  to  the 
railway  station,  bought  a ticket  for  Plymouth,  and  started  in  the 
eleven  o'clock  train.” 

‘‘On  receiving  this  message,  he  started  for  Plymouth  by  the 
eleven  o’clock  train.”  i 

It  might  be  difficult  to  find  in  a reputable  author  a sentence 
(.short  enough  to  quote)  so  painfully  prolix  as  the  above;  but  every 
one  who  has  read  aloud  a novel  of  Dickens  or  of  Anthony  Trollope, 
— not  to  speak  of  inferior  writers,  — has  experienced  the  effect  of 
prolixity,  though  he  may  irot  have  recognized  the  cause.  “ Who 
can  apportion  out  and  dovetail  his  incidents,  characters,  atrd  de- 
scriptive morsels,  so  as  to  fit  them  all  exactly  into  six  hundred 
and  eighty  pages,  without  either  compressing  them  unnaturally,  or 
extending  them  artificially  at  the  end  of  his  labor?  ” ^ 


An  expression  that  suggests  a scene  or  a thought, 
while  not  less  clear  than  a statement  in  de-  ^ suggestive 
tail,  is  far  more  forcible, — as  a man  sees 
more  for  himself  in  a moment  than  he  can  learn  from 
pages  of  description. 

Much  time  may  be  saved  to  both  writer  and  reader 
by  the  division  of  a discourse  into  paragraphs  yaiue  of 
exactly  corresponding  to  the  larger  divisions 
of  the  subject  in  hand.  Every  important  transition 


t Quintilian  has  illustrated  this  point  in  a similar  way : “ Solet  enim  quaedam 
esse  partium  hrevitas,  quae  longam  tainen  efficit  summara.  In  portum  veni, 
nnvem  prospexi,  quanli  veheret  interrogavi,  de  pretio  convenit,  conscendi,  gub- 
liitae  sunt  ancorae,  solvinius  oram,  profecti  sumus.  Nihil  horum  dici  celerius 
potest,  sed  sufficit  dicere  [:]  e portu  navignvi.  Et  quotiens  exitus  rei  satis  ostendit 
jiriora,  debemus  hoc  esse  contenti,  quo  reliqua  intclleguntur.”  — Inst.  Orator, 
iv.  ii.  xli.  See,  also,  J.  Q.  Adams : Lectures  on  Rhetoric  and  Oratory,  lect. 
xviii.  p.  42'2. 

^ Anthony  Trollope  Barchester  Towers,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xxiv.  See,  too,  p.  160. 


126 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  IBook  II. 


being  thus  marked  by  a break  in  the  page,  it  is  easy  to 
I follow  the  main  line  of  thought.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 

‘ an  essay  is  not  divided  into  paragraphs,  or  is  divided 
at  the  wrong  places,  a reader  will  get  on  much  more 
slowly  than  usual,  and  Avith  much  more  fatigue. 

An  apt  quotation,  at  the  same  time  that  it  gives 
Value  of  apt  Weight  of  authority  and  perhaps  also  the 
quotations,  q£  association  to  a thought,  briefly 

suggests  what  many  additional  Avords  Avould  not  fully 
express. 

Antithesis  ^ enables  one  to  economize  space  by  the  help 
other  devices  which  each  of  two  Contrasted  Avords  gives  to 
for  brevity.  other ; Climax,^  by  increasing  interest 

in  proportion  to  the  time  spent  and  the  energy  expend- 
ed; Variety  in  language  and  in  construction,  by  pre- 
venting the  lassitude  Avhieh  comes  from  monotony 

“ A particular  statement,  example,  or  proverb,  of  which  the  gen- 
eral application  is  obvious,  will  often  save  a long  abstract  rule, 
which  needs  much  explanation  and  limitation ; and  will  thus  sug- 
gest much  that  is  not  actually  said:  thus  answering  the  purpose  of 
a mathematical  diagram,  which,  though  itself  an  individual,  serves 
as  a representative  of  a class.  Slight  hints  also  respecting  the  sub- 
ordinate branches  of  any  subject,  and  notices  of  the  principles  that 
will  apply  to  them,  &c.,  may  often  be  substituted  for  digressive  dis- 
cussions, which,  though  laboriously  compressed,  would  yet  occupy 
a much  greater  space.”  * 

One  well-cbosen  Avord  may  say  more  than  a sentence  ; 
one  Avell-arranged  sentence  may  dispense  witli  a para- 
graph ; and  a dash  may  be  eloquent : — 

“ If  you  should  transfer  the  amount  of  your  reading  day  by  day 
from  the  newspaper  to  the  standard  authors  — But  Avho  dare  speak 
of  such  a thing  ? ” ® 

1 See  p.  129.  2 See  p.  133.  3 See  p.  164. 

4 AA^hately : Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  ix. 

5 R.  W.  Emerson  : Society  and  Solitude,  p.  175. 


Chap.  II.] 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS. 


127 


“Richter  says,  in  the  Island  of  Sumatra  there  is  a kind  of 
‘Light-chafers,’  large  Fireflies,  which  people  stick  upon  spits,  and 
illuminate  the  ways  with  at  night.  Persons  of  condition  can  thus 
travel  with  a pleasant  radiance  which  they  much  admire.  Great 
honor  to  the  Fireflies!  But  — ! ^ 

The  success  of  a suggestive  style  depends,  of  course, 
upon  the  skilful  selection  of  those  particulars 

which  bring  the  rest  at  once  and  inevitably  to  selection  of 

• 1 » • 1 • 1 1 j • - 1 particulars. 

mind.  A circumstance  which,  though  trivial 
in  itself,  stands  for  other  circumstances  more  important, 
— one,  for  instance,  which  implies  the  existence  of  a 
cause  for  itself  and  for  numerous  other  effects,  — may 
flash  upon  the  mind  more  than  pages  of  detail  could 
communicate.^ 

“ In  his  [Burke’s]  illustrations  no  less  than  in  the  body  of  his 
work,  few  things  are  more  remarkable  than  his  exquisite  instinct 
of  selection, — an  instinct  which  seems  almost  confined  to  the 
French  and  the  English  mind.  It  is  the  polar  opposite  of  what 
is  now  sometimes  called,  by  a false  application  of  a mathematical 
term,  exhaustiveness,  — formerly  much  practised  by  the  Germans, 
and  consisting,  to  use  the  happy  phrase  of  Goldsmith,  in  a certain 
manner  of  ‘ writing  the  subject  to  the  dregs  ; ’ saying  all  that  can 
be  said  on  a given  subject,  without  considering  how  far  it  is  to 
the  purpose;  and  valuing  facts  becau.se  they  are  true,  rather  than 
because  they  are  significant.’’® 

By  a suggestive  style  is,  of  course,  meant  a style  that 
is  suggestive  to  the  person  addressed.  Tlie  cir-  A“sngf):es- 
cumstaiice  that  “ the  fox  looked  out  of  the  must  suggest, 
window”  at  Balclutha"^  would  not  represent  desolation 
to  one  who  knew  nothing  about  foxes.  Byron’s  “ Niobe 
of  Nations  ” would  tell  nothing  about  Rome  to  one  who 
had  never  heard  the  story  of  Niobe.  The  word  Athens 

1 Carlyle  : Heroes  and  Hero-worship,  lect.  v. ; Burns.  2 See  pp.  174,  241. 

® E.  J.  Payne:  Introduction  to  Select  Works  of  Burke.  See  p.  164. 

* Ossian  see  p.  150. 


128 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


says  much  more  to  one  man  than  could  be  learned  by 
another  from  a summary  of  Grecian  History,  or  even 
from  a sight  of  the  Parthenon  and  the  Acropolis. 

In  trying  not  to  be  prolix,  one  should  beware  of  the 
opposite  extreme,  should  avoid  ellipses  that  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  bridge,  compression  that  takes  the  life  out 
of  language,  laborious  conciseness  of  every  kind ; but 
Misplaced  Gveii  into  these  faults  a verbose  writer  often 
bievity.  Impatient  himself  of  his  slow  progress, 

he  tries  to  get  on  faster,  but  only  succeeds  in  omitting, 
not  what  his  readers  may  be  presumed  to  knoAV,  but 
what  he  knows  best  himself. 

Brevity  is  not,  however,  as  some  seem  to  think,  the 
one  thing  needful  in  writing.  The  shortest  word,  sen- 
tence, or  paragraph  is  not  necessarily  the  best  one. 
Economy  in  syllables  is  not  always  true  economy.  The 
very  author  who  laj^s  it  down  as  “ an  axiom  that  lan- 
guor is  the  cause  or  the  effect  of  most  disorders,”  also 
says : “ It  is  silly  to  argue  that  we  gain  ground  by 
shortening  on  all  occasions  the  syllables  of  a sentence. 
Half  a minute,  if  indeed  so  much  is  requisite,  is  well 
spent  in  clearness,  in  fulness,  and  pleasurableness  of 
expression,  and  in  engaging  the  ear  to  carry  a message 
to  the  understanding.”  ^ 

1 Landor:  Works,  vol.  iv.  pp.  50,  51.  Quintilian  has  a sentence  to  the  same 
effect:  “ Fortasse  ubique,  in  narratione  tanien  praecipue,  media  haec  tenenda 
sit  via  dicendi,  quantum  opus  est,  et  quantum  satis  est.  Quantum  opus  est  autem 
non  ita  solum  accipi  volo,  quantum  ad  indicandum  sutficit,  quia  non  inornata 
debet  esse  brevitas,  alioqui  sit  indocta;  nam  et  fallit  voluptas  et  minus  longa 
quae  delectant  videntur,  ut  amoenum  ac  molle  iter,  etiamsi  est  spatii  ampli- 
oris,  minus  fatigat  quam  durum  aridumque  conpendium.” — Inst.  Orator,  iv. 
ii.  xlv. 


Chap.  111.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


129 


CHAPTER  III. 

ARRANGEMENT  OP  WORDS. 

Success  in  either  spoken  or  written  discourse  depends 
even  more  upon  the  order  in  which  words  are  arranged 
than  upon  their  choice  or  their  number.  In  an  ideal 
arrangement,  the  position  of  every  verbal  sign 
would  exactly  correspond  to  that  of  the  thing  arrangement, 
signified ; the  order  of  the  language  would  be  the  order 
of  the  thought,  and  would  distinctly  indicate  the  relative 
importance  of  every  constituent  part  of  the  composition. 
“ If  conformity  between  words  and  their  meaning  be 
agreeable,  it  must  of  course  be  agreeable  to  find  the  same 
order  or  arrangement  in  both.”  ^ Of  this  ideal  arrange- 
ment no  human  language  is  susceptible  ; but  a writer 
should  aim  to  come  as  near  the  ideal  as  is  permitted  by 
the  limitations  of  the  language  in  Avhich  he  writes. 

I.  Clearness  and  Force  may  often  be  gained  hy  Antith- 
esis,"^ — the  setting  over  against  ^ each  other  of 
contrasted  or  opposed  ideas,  expressed  in  Ian- 
guage  that  brings  out  the  contrast  most  forcibl}^,  word 
corresponding  to  word,  clause  to  clause,  construction 
to  construction.^  Tlie  principle  is  the  same  with  that 
which  makes  a white  object  appear  whiter  and  a black 
one  blacker  if  the  black  and  the  white  are  placed  side 
by  side,  — particularly  if  they  are  similar  in  size  and  are 
looked  at  from  a similar  point  of  view.  In  both  cases, 

1 Lord  Karnes : Elements  of  Criticism,  chap,  xviii.  sect.  ii. 

2 From  itvTnlBrtfii,  set  opposite.  * See  p.  137. 


130 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OE  AVORDS.  [Booit  II. 


the  resemblance  in  some  respects  between  the  two  things 
contrasted  makes  their  dissimilarity  in  other  respects 
more  striking.  For  example  : — 

“ Words  are  the  counters  of  wise  men,  and  the  money  of  fools  ; ” 
“ Measures,  not  men ; ” “ AA^heii  reason  is  ayainst  a man,  he  'wi-ll  be 
against  reason;”  “I  do  not  live  to  ea^,  but  eat  to  live;”  “Party 
is  the  madness  of  many  for  the  gain  of  a few  “A  proverb  is  the 
toisdoni  of  many  and  the  wit  of  one.” 

“Here  lies  our  good  Edmund  [Burke]  whose  genius  was  such, 

AVe  scarcely  can /jraise  it,  or  blame  it  too  much  ; 

Who,  born  for  the  universe,  narrow'd  his  mind. 

And  to  party  gave  up  wliat  was  meant  for  mankind."  i 

Burke  makes  frequent  and  effective  use  of  Antithesis. 
For  example : — 

“ A great  empire  and  little  minds  go  ill  together.  . . . Our  an- 
cestors have  turned  a savage  ■wilderness  into  a glorious  empire ; and 
have  made  the  most  extensive  and  the  oidy  honorable  conquests, 
not  by  destroying,  but  by  promoting,  the  -wealth,  the  number,  the 
happiness  of  the  human  race.”  ^ 

“ Compare  the  two.  This  I offer  to  give  you  is  plain  and  simple, 
the  other  full  of  perplexed  and  intricate  mazes.  This  is  mild,  that 
harsh.  This  is  found  by  experience  effectual  for  its  purposes;  the 
other  is  a new  project.  This  is  universal;  the  other  calculated  for 
certain  Colonies  only.  This  is  immediate  in  its  conciliatory  opera- 
tion ; the  other  remote,  contingent,  full  of  hazard.  Mine  is  what 
becomes  the  dignity  of  a ruling  people,  gratuitous,  unconditional, 
and  not  held  out  as  matter  of  bargain  and  sale.  ’ ’ ^ 

“ The  question  with  me  is,  not  whether  you  have  a right  to 
render  your  people  miserable;  but  whether  it  is  not  your  interest  to 
make  them  happy.  It  is  not  what  a lawyer  tells  me  I may  do;  but 
what  humanity,  reason,  and  justice  tell  me  I ought  to  do.  Is  a 
politic  act  the  worse  for  being  a generous  one?  Is  no  concession 
proper,  but  that  which  is  made  fi’om  your  want  of  right  to  keep 
what  you  grant  ? 

1 Goldsmith : Retaliation.  The  poem  is  full  of  antitheses.  See  also  Pope 
and  Dryden. 

2 Burke:  AVorks,  vol.  ii.  pp.  49,  77,  82;  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America. 
See  also  p.  134. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


131 


Burke’s  antitheses  are  peculiarly  valuable  as  exam- 
ples, because  they  are  real  antitheses,  corresponding  to 
a real  opposition  between  ideas  ; and  also  because  they 
are  not  so  frequent  or  so  protracted  as  to  become  mo- 
notonous,— excellences  which  cannot  be  fully  appre- 
ciated witliout  a thorough  study  of  one  of  Burke’s 
speeches  as  a wliole. 

In  striking  contrast  witli  this  great  writer’s  temperate 
use  of  Antithesis  are  the  excesses  into  which 
Dr.  Johnson,  Gibbon,  Junius,  and  even  Ma- 
caulay  fall.  Sometimes  such  writers  throw  simple  sen- 
tences into  an  antithetical  form  “ by  the  addition  of 
clauses  which  add  little  or  nothing  to  the  sense,  and 
which  have  been  compared  to  the  false  handles  and  key- 
holes with  which  furniture  is  decorated,  that  serve  no 
other  purpose  than  to  correspond  to  the  real  ones.’’’’  ^ 

Sometimes  the  fault  consists  in  so  frequent  a use  of 
Antithesis  as  to  give  to  the  composition  an  ExceRsivo 
artificial  air  ; the  author  seems  to  pay  more  Antithesis, 
attention  to  manner  than  to  matter ; “he  stimulates  till 
all  stimulants  lose  their  power.”  ^ Such  excessive  use 
of  Antithesis  leads  to  exaggeration.  The  most  striking 
contrasts  are  between  extremes ; but  the  truth  rarely 
lies  at  either  extreme. 


Besides  employing  “ ‘ unnecessary  antithesis  to  express  very 
simple  propositions,’  ® IMacaulay  has  a tendency  to  make  slight 
sacrifices  of  truth  to  antithesis.  The  chapter  on  the  state  of  soci- 
ety in  1685  has  been  convicted  of  many  exaggerated  statements  by 
less  dazzling  antiquarians.  In  his  numerous  comparisons  between 
different  men,  he  unquestionably  tampers  with  the  realities  for  the 
sake  of  enhancing  the  effect,  lie  exaggerates  the  melancholy  of 


1 Wliately : Rhetoric,  part  iii.  cliap.  ii.  sect.  xiv. 

2 Macaulay  (of  Tacitus) : Es.say  on  Historj'. 

* “Edinburgh  Review.” 


132 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


Dante’s  character  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  cheerfulness  of  Milton’s 
on  the  other;  he  puts  too  strongly  the  purely  illustrative  character 
of  Dante’s  similes  in  contradistinction  to  the  purely  poetic  or  or- 
namental character  of  Milton’s.  So  he  probably  overstates  the 
shallowness  and  flippancy  of  Montesquieu,  to  heighten  by  contrast 
the  solidity  and  stateliness  of  Machiavelli.”  ^ 

Balanced  sentences — tliat  is,  sentences  composed  of 

Balanced  successivo  clauses  wliicli  are  constructed  on 

sentences,  game  plan,  and  in  which  corresponding 
words  occupy  corresponding  places  — often  contain 
antithetical  words  or  clauses ; but  even  where  they  do 
not,  their  advantages  and  disadvantages  are  similar  to 
those  of  Antithesis. 

Dr.  Johnson’s  well-known  parallel  between  Dryden  and  Pope 
is  full  of  sentences  of  this  character.  It  ends  as  follows : — 

“ If  the  flights  of  Dryden  therefore  are  higher.  Pope  continues 
longer  on  the  wing.  If  of  Dryden’s  fire  the  blaze  is  brighter,  of 
Pope’s  the  heat  is  more  regular  and  constant.  Dryden  often  sur- 
passes expectation,  and  Pope  never  falls  below  it.  Dryden  is  read 
with  frequent  astonishment,  and  Pope  with  perpetual  delight.”  * 

When  not  carried  to  excess,  the  balanced  structure 
is  agreeable  to  the  ear,  is  a help  to  the  memory,  and 
gives  emphasis  to  each  of  the  balanced  expressions : 
when  carried  to  excess,  it  makes  a writer  the  slave  of 
sound ; it  produces  upon  the  reader  the  monotonous 
effect  without  the  charm  of  rhythm  ; and  it  leads  to 
a sacrifice  of  strict  truth. 

“ A true  poet  will  never  confound  verse  and  prose;  whereas  it  is 
almost  characteristic  of  indifferent  prose  writei’S  that  they  should 
be  constantly  slipping  into  scraps  of  metre.”  ^ 

Even  writers  of  merit  are  not  free  from  this  fault.  Readers 

1 William  Minto:  A Manual  of  English  Literature,  p.  121. 

Jolinson  : Lives  of  the  Poets ; Pope. 

3 Coleridge : Literary  Remains,  lect.  xiv. ; On  Style.  “ Oratio  non  descendet 
ad  crepitum  digitorum.”  — Quintilian:  Inst.  Orator,  ix.  iv.  Iv. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


133 


of  Dickens,  for  example,  are  familiar  with  his  fondness  for  rhythm, 
particularly  in  pathetic  pa.ssages.  Aware  himself  of  this  weakness, 
he  asked  Forster,  his  friend  and  proof-reader,  to  remedy  the  diffi- 
culty by  “knocking  out  a word  here  and  there;”  but,  unfortu- 
nately, Forster  paid  little  heed  to  the  request. 

II.  Clearness  and  Force  favor  the  arrangement  of 
words  in  a sentence,  and  of  sentences  in  a 

Clima.x. 

paragraph,  in  an  ascending  series,  to  consti- 
tute a Climax}  the  less  important  coming  before  the 
more  important,  the  less  interesting  before  the  more 
interesting,  the  general  before  the  specific,  the  specific 
before  the  individual.^  As  the  interest  should  culmi- 
nate in  the  fifth  act  of  a play  and  in  the  last  quarter  of 
a stoiy,  so  should  each  integral  part  of  a composition 
end  with  the  most  striking  circumstance.  “ As  immedi- 
ately after  looking  at  the  sun  we  cannot  perceive  the 
light  of  a fire,  Avhile  by  looking  at  the  fire  first  and  the 
sun  afterwards  we  can  perceive  both  ; so,  after  receiv- 
ing a brilliant,  or  weighty,  or  terrible  thought,  we  can- 
not appreciate  a less  brilliant,  less  weighty,  or  less 
terrible  one,  while,  by  reversing  the  order,  we  can 
appreciate  each.”  ^ 

The  Climax  possesses  two  principal  advantages : it 
prevents  mental  fatigue  by  continually  in-  Advantases 
creasing  the  pleasure  of  mental  exertion ; 
and  it  supplies  means  of  measuring  the  importance  of 
the  final  statement,  as  inferior  elevations  help  the  eye 
to  measure  the  height  of  a mountain. 

There  are  uo  better  examples  of  climax  than  the  hackneyed  ones 
from  Cicero:  — 

“ Abiit,  excessit,  evasit,  erupit.”^ 

1 KXifjLa^,  a ladder  or  staircase.  2 gee  p.  81. 

3 Spencer:  Philosophy  of  Style. 

* Orations  against  Catiline,  ii.  i. 


134 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  11. 


“ To  put  a Roman  citizen  in  chains  is  a misdeed;  to  scourge 
him  is  a crime ; to  kill  him  is  almost  parricide ; to  crucify  him  — 
what  shall  I call  it?  For  so  nefarious  an  act  there  is  no  word.”  i 

Other  examples  — less  striking,  indeed,  than  those  from  Cicero, 
but  more  accurately  representing  the  Climax  as  used  in  modern 
writing  — are  as  follows : — 

“ Such  is  the  strength  with  which  population  shoots  in  that  part 
of  the  world,  that,  state  the  numbers  as  high  as  we  will,  whilst  the 
dispute  continues,  the  exaggeration  ends.  Whilst  we  are  discussing 
any  given  magnitude,  they  are  grown  to  it.  Whilst  we  spend  om’ 
time  in  deliberating  on  the  mode  of  governing  two  millions,  we 
shall  find  we  have  millions  more  to  manage.  Your  children  do  not 
grow  faster  from  infancy  to  manhood,  than  they  spread  from  families 
to  communities,  and  from  villages  to  nations.”  ^ 

“ Sir,  the  venerable  age  of  this  great  man,  his  merited  rank, 
his  superior  eloquence,  his  splendid  qualities,  his  eminent  services, 
the  vast  space  he  fills  in  the  eye  of  mankind;  and,  more  than  all 
the  rest,  his  fall  from  power,  which,  like  death,  canonizes  and 
sanctifies  a great  character,  — will  not  suffer  me  to  censure  any  pai't 
of  his  conduct.”  * 

“ It  is  the  spirit  of  the  English  Constitution,  which,  infused 
through  the  mighty  mass,  pervades,  feeds,  unites,  invigorates, 
vivifies,  every  part  of  the  empire,  even  down  to  the  minutest 
member.  ’ ’ ^ 

“Events  which  short-sighted  politicians  ascribed  to  earthly 
causes  had  been  ordained  on  his  [the  Puritan’s]  account.  For  his 
sake  empires  had  risen,  and  flourished,  and  decayed.  For  his  sake 
the  Almighty  had  proclaimed  his  will  by  the  pen  of  the  evangelist, 
and  tlie  harp  of  the  prophet.  He  had  been  rescued  by  no  common 
deliverer  from  the  grasp  of  no  common  foe.  He  had  been  ransomed 
by  the  sweat  of  no  vulgar  agony,  by  the  blood  of  no  earthly 
sacrifice.  It  was  for  him  that  the  sun  had  been  darkened,  that 
the  rocks  had  been  rent,  that  the  dead  had  arisen,  that  all  Nature 
had  shuddered  at  the  sufferings  of  her  expiring  God!  ” ® 

1 Orations  against  Verres,  ii.  v.  Ixv.  clxx. 

2 Burke;  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  24;  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America. 

3 Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  480;  Speech  on  American  Taxation. 

■*  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  p.  81;  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America.  See  p.  117. 

6 Macaulay:  Essays;  Milton.  See  pp.  Ill,  231. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


135 


The  value  of  the  Climax  can  be  learned  also  from  the 
absurd  effect  of  the  Anti-climax  ; as  : — Auti-ciimax. 

“ Language  . . . can  inform  them  [words]  with  tlie  spiritual 
pliilosophy  of  the  Pauline  epistles,  the  living  thunder  of  a Demos- 
thenes, or  the  material  picturesqueness  of  a Russell.”  ^ 

An  obituary  notice,  after  enumerating  the  virtues  of  the  de- 
ceased, ended  with  a eulogium  upon  the  delicacy  of  his  handicritiny. 

“ What  pen  can  describe  the  tears,  the  lamentations,  the  agonies, 
the  animated  remonstrances  of  the  unfortunate  prisoners  ! ” 

Tlie  Anti-elimax  may,  however,  be  effective  as  a wea- 
pon of  irony : — 

“ When  George  the  Fourth  was  still  reigning  over  the  privacies 
of  Windsor,  wlien  the  Duke  of  Wellington  was  Prime  Minister, 
and  Mr.  Vincy  was  mayor  of  the  old  corporation  in  Middlemarch, 
Mrs.  Casaubon,  born  Dorothea  Brooke,  had  taken  her  wedding 
journey  to  llome.”^ 

III.  Clearness  requires  that  the  words  and  clauses 
which  are  distinct  in  thought  shall  be  dis-  -^.atis 
tinet  in  expression,  and  that  those  nearly 
related  in  thought  shall  be  brought  as  near  ui^t'iict'fn 
to  each  other  in  expression  as  possible.  By  ®*rression. 
conformity  to  this  principle,  the  mutual  relations  of  the 
constituent  parts  of  a sentence,  on  the  one  hand,  will  be 
clearly  indicated ; and  tlie  words  which  go  to  make  up  each 
part,  on  the  other  hand,  will  be  closely  bound  together. 

Adverbs  and  adverbial  expressions  should  always  be 
so  placed  as  to  show  unmistakably  what  words 

1.  ^ ^ Proper 

they  are  intended  to  qualify.  The  following  position  of 

.1  ativerbs. 

are  instances  of  the  violation  of  this  rule  : — 

“ AVhatever  qualities  he  him.self,  prohahly,  had  acquired  without 
difficulty  or  special  tiaining,  he  seems  to  have  supposed  that  I 
ought  to  acquire  as  easily.”  * 

1 Marsh  : English  Language,  lect.  xiii. 

2 George  Eliot:  Mitldlemarch,  book  ii.  chap.  xi.v. 

8 Mill : Autobiographj’,  p.  37. 


13G 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


“ Tlie  smooth  monotony  of  the  leading  religious  topics,  as  man- 
aged by  the  French  orators,  under  the  treatment  of  Jeremy  Taylor,  re- 
ceives at  each  turn  of  the  sentence  a new  flexure.”  ^ 

“In  painting  and  in  sculpture  it  is  now  past  disputing  that,  if 
we  are  destined  to  inferiority  at  all,  it  is  an  inferiority  only  to  the 
Italians  and  the  ancient  Greeks;  an  inferiority  which,  if  it  were 
even  sure  to  be  permanent,  we  share  with  all  the  other  malicious 
nations  around  us.”  ^ 

“ He  was  about  to  go  on,  when  he  perceived,  from  her  quivering 
eye  and  pallid  cheek,  that  nothing  less  than  imposture  was  intended, 
and  that  by  whatever  means  her  imagination  had  been  so  impressed, 
it  was  really  disturbed  by  unaffected  awe  and  terror.”  ® 

“Penelope  had  to  bear  up  alone  for  twenty  weaiy  years,  with- 
out a friend,  without  a counsellor,  and  with  even  a child  whose  con- 
stancy was  wavering.”^ 

“ One  accent  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
The  heedless  world  hath  never  lost.”  ® 

Care  should  be  taken  to  place  connectives  of  the 
Position  class  known  to  grammarians  as  correspond- 

of  corre-  77  7 -i 

spondents.  euts, — such  as  uot  Only,  but  also  ; either,  or  ; 
neither,  nor ; both,  and ; on  the  one  hand,  on  the  other 
hand,  — next  to  the  words  they  connect.  Examples  of 
carelessness  in  this  respect  are : — 

“ I neither  estimated  myself  highly  nor  lowly.”  ® 

“ Far  superior  to  Mr.  Canning,  in  this  respect,  from  that  calm, 
steady,  and  considerate  tone  which  never  gives  offence,  and  which, 
laying  aside  the  orator,  marks  the  statesman,  he  neither  attempted 
to  excite  anger,  nor  ridicule,  nor  admiration.”’^ 

“ Lothair  was  unaffectedly  gratified  at  not  only  receiving  his 
friends  at  his  own  castle,  hut  under  these  circumstances  of  inti- 
macy.” ® 

1 De  Quincey : Essay  on  Rhetoric.  2 Ibid. : Essay  on  Style. 

^ Scott:  Old  Mortality,  chap.  xxv. 

^ Eroude:  Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects,  First  Series,  p.  432;  Homer. 

5 Emerson:  Poems;  The  Problem.  For  other  examples,  see  pp.  3-3,  142. 

6 Mill : Autobiography,  p.  33. 

i Lord  Balling:  Sir  Robert  Peel,  part  ii.  sect.  ii. 

8 Disraeli : Lothair,  chap,  xxxix. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


137 


“ Oswald  not  only  communicated  a copy  of  his  commission  but  a 
part  of  his  instructions  and  a letter  from  the  Secretary  of  State.”  i 

A pronoun  should  be  so  placed  as  promptly  and  un- 
mistakably to  present  its  antecedent  to  the 
mind  of  the  reader.  If,  in  a given  case,  this 
cannot  be  done,  either  the  sentence  should  be  given 
another  turn,  or  the  noun  that  served  for  antecedent 
should  be  repeated.^  Examples  of  the  violation  of  this 
rule  are  as  follows : — 

“ Many  clergymen  act  so  directly  contrary  to  this  method  that, 
from  a habit  of  saving  time  and  paper,  xvhich  they  acquired  at  the 
university,  they  write  in  so  diminutive  a manner  that  they  are 
hardly  able  to  go  on.”* 

“ With  .sheer  descent,''  a turret  high 
Rose  ■'  from  the  roof  into  the  sky, 

Whence  curious  gazers  might  look  down, 

And  see  the  camp,  the  fleet,  the  town.”  * 

“I  found  it  [the  manuscript  of  Waverley]  again  by  mere  acci- 
dent among  other  waste  papers,  in  an  old  cabinet,  the  drawers  of 
which  I was  rummaging,  in  order  to  accommodate  a friend  with 
some  fishing  tackle,  after  it  had  been  mislaid  for  several  years.”  ® 

“It  is  — last  stage  of  all  — 

When  we  are  frozen  up  ■within,  and  quite 
The  phantom  of  ourselves, 

To  hear  the  world  applaud  the  hollow  ghost 
Which  blamed  the  living  man.”  t 


The  construction  should  not  be  changed  without  an 
adequate  cause.  If  it  is  so  changed,  the  reader  construction 
will  either  waste  time  in  the  vain  search  for  a changed  with- 
reason  for  the  change,  or  he  will  experience 
an  unpleasant  jar:  in  either  case,  his  attention  will  be 


' For  other  examples,  see  pp.  46,49.  Seep.  72. 

* Swift : A Letter  to  a Young  Clergj'man.  ^ Rose  with  sheer  descent  J 

* Conington : Translation  of  The  zEneid,  book  ii.  p.  54. 

Scott:  Waverley,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xxxvi. 

tfatthew  Arnold  ; Poems,  vol.  ii.  line  17.3.  For  other  examples,  see  p 72. 


138 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


called,  from  the  meaning  of  the  sentence  to  its  malfor- 
mation. For  example:  — 

“ We  could  see  the  lake  over  the  woods,  two  or  three  miles  ahead, 
and  that  the  river  made  an  abrupt  turn  southward.”  ^ 

“ lie  teas  left  with  her  injunctions,  and  the  spirit  of  the  oracle, 
though  the  divinity  was  no  longer  visible,  pervaded  his  mind  and 
life.”  ^ 

“I  recollect  his  ‘Complete  Angler,’ several  years  since, 

in  company  with  a knot  ^ of  friends  in  America,  and  moreover  that 
we  were  all  completely  bitten®  with  the  angling  mania.”  ^ 

” I recollect  the  good,  honest,  wholesome,  hungry,  repast  which 
we  made  under  a beech  tree,  just  by  a spring  of  pure  sweet  water 
that  stole  out  of  the  side  of  a hill ; and  how,^  when  it  was  over,  one 
of  the  party  read  old  Isaak  Walton’s  scene  with  the  milkmaid.”  ® 

“ The  Soldan  undertook  the  preparations  of  the  lists  and  to  provide 
accommodations  and  refreshments  of  every  kind  for  aU  who  were  to 
assist at  the  solemnity.”  8 

Even  where  a sentence  is  perfectly  clear,  it  may  be 
rendered  inelegant  by  the  purposeless  introduction  of  a 
new  word,  merely,  as  it  would  seem,  in  order  to  avoid 
repetition.  For  example : — 

“ He  was  just  one  of  those  men  that  the  country  can’t  afford  to 
lose,  and  whom  it  is  so  very  hard  to  replace.”  ® 

‘ ‘ The  peculiar  mode  of  discipline  adopted  in  Highland  warfare 
rendered  them  equally  formidable  % their  individual  courage  and 
high  spirit,  and  from  their  rational  conviction  of  the  necessity  of 
acting  in  unison.” 

“ I have  amused  myself  by  prophesying,  as  we  drove  into  town, 
how  this  ugly  lot  of  suburbs  would  join  with  that  ugly  lot,  and  that 
there  would  soon  be  one  continuous  street.”  i® 

1 Henry  D.  Thoreau:  Maine  Woods,  p.  2G3. 

2 Disraeli : Lothair,  chap.  lii.  ® See  p.  96. 

4 Irving:  The  Sketch  Book;  The  Angler.  ® See  p.  31. 

s Irving : The  Sketch  Book ; The  Angler.  1 See  p.  55. 

8 Scott;  The  Talisman,  chap,  xxvii. 

9 Anthony  Trollope : The  American  Senator,  chap.  Ixv. 

w Scott : Waverley,  vol.  ii.  chap.  viii.  ^ See  p.  31. 

12  Helps : Social  Pressure,  chap.  iv.  p.  59. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


lay 

Elegance  prohibits  an  arrangement  tliat  tlirows  the 
emphasis  on^  and  thus  causes  a suspension  of  the  sense 
at,  a particle  or  other  unimportant  Avord  (as  in  this 
very  sentence).  Such  an  arrangement  is  also  hostile 
to  Clearness,  for  it  forces  the  mind  to  halt  at  the  very 
points  from  which  it  Avould  naturally  hurry  on.  Exam- 
ples of  this  fault  are  : — 

“ The  Tory  party  . . . satiated  with,  if  not  proud  of,  pa.st  gains 
may  refuse  to  tempt  fortune  again.”  ^ 

“ I have  often  spoken  to  you  upon  matters  kindred  to,  or  at  any 
rate  not  distantly  connected  with,  my  subject  for  Easter.”  ^ 

“ . . . out  of  many  copies  from,  or  variations  on,  him  by  un- 
known or  uncertain  workmen.”  ® 

Dependent  clauses  should  be  kept  distinct  from  in- 
dependent clauses  and  from  each  other.  Thus  dependent 
the  following  sentence  may  be  understood  ent^eiausea'to’ 
(punctuation  apart)  in  three  different  Avays : — 

“ John  determined  to  go  to  New  York  [,]  to  make  a fortune  [,] 
and  to  study  German.” 

This  may  mean  that  John  determined  (1)  to  go  to  New  York 
and  to  make  a fortune  and  to  study  German  ; or  (2)  both  to  go  to 
New  York  for  the  purpose  of  making  a fortune,  and  to  study  Ger- 
man ; or  (3)  to  go  to  New  York  both  in  order  to  make  a fortune  and 
in  order  to  study  German. 

The  following  sentence  contains  a similar  obscurity:  — 

“ It  would  be  a curious  problem  of  literary  geography  to  trace 
the  stream  of  French  intellectual  influence  which  has  passed  through 
Edinburgh,  to  effect  its  infiltration  into  the  English  mind.”^ 

It  is  important  to  insert  every  that  which  helps  to  make  the  sense 
clear.  The  following  sentence,  for  example,  which  raises  no  diffi- 
culty as  it  stands,  would  be  rendered  obscure  by  the  omission  of  any 
of  the  italicized  thats : — 

“ Make  people  understand  that  there  are  other  objects  in  life  than 

1 Robert  Lowe,  in  The  Fortnightly  Review.  (1877.) 

2 Helps : Social  Pressure,  chap.  iii.  p.  3G. 

3 A\''alter  II.  Pater,  in  The  Fortnightly  Review.  (1877.) 

•*  .lames  Rlartineaii ; Essays,  Philosojihical  and  Theological,  p.  .3.3G. 


140 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


the  attainment  of  religious  truth;  that  they  are  so  ignorant  and  so 
likely  to  be  mistaken  in  their  religious  opinions  that  if  they  perse- 
cute at  all  they  are  as  likely  to  persecute  truth  as  falsehood  ; that 
in  order  to  be  effectual  a persecution  must  be  so  powerful,  so 
systematic,  and  so  vigorously  sustained  as  to  crush,  paralyze,  and 
destroy;  and  that  the  result  when  obtained  will  probably  be  of  ex- 
ceedingly small  importance.”  ^ 

In  the  following  sentence,  one  is  at  first  at  a loss  to  know  with 
what  word  the  italicized  that  is  connected : — 

‘ ‘ "We  could  see  . . . that  the  river  made  an  abrupt  turn  south- 
ward around  the  northwest  end  of  the  cliff  on  w'hich  we  stood,  or 
a little  above  us,  so  that  we  had  cut  off  a bend,  and  that  there  w’as 
an  important  fall  in  it  ^ a short  distance  below  us.  ’ ’ ® 

A parenthetical  expression  should  “ never  hang 
loose  in  the  middle  of  a period,”  ^ but  should 
parenthetical  be  inserted  where  it  makes  the  least  break, 

expressions.  _ . . . . t 

and  where  its  position  determines  to  wliicli 
part  of  the  sentence  it  belongs.  The  following  sen- 
tences are,  therefore,  open  to  criticism : — 

“ Obliged  to  part  with  their  effects  at  the  lowest  prices,  the  Jews 
sadly  departed,  amid  the  execrations  of  the  'people,  and  bearing  ^ awag 
little  but  their  destitute  wives  and  children,  from  the  scenes  of  their 
birth  and  infancy.”® 

“ Miss  Meadowcroft  searched  the  newspapers  for  tidings  of  the 
living  John  Jago  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  room.”  ’ 

“ Forty  years  ago,  there  was  assuredly  no  spot  of  ground  out  of 
Palestine,  in  all  the  round  world,  on  which  if  you  knew,  even  but  a 
little,  the  true  course  of  the  ivorld's  history,  you  saw  ® with  so  much 
joyful  reverence  the  dawn  of  morning,  as  at  the  foot  of  the  tower 
of  Giotto.”  ® 

“ They  attire  themselves  accordingly  for  what  they  may  expect, 
and  except  for  any  native  nobility  in  their  air,  in  their  heavy  boots 

1 Stephen : Libert}',  Equality,  and  Fraternit}',  p.  101. 

® See  p.  137.  ® Thoreau:  Maine  Woods,  p.  263. 

* Blair:  Rhetoric,  lect.  xi.  ® See  p.  137. 

® Jlilman  : History  of  the  Jews,  vol.  iii.  book  xxiv. 

7 AVilkie  Collins : Dead  Alive,  p.  127.  ^ is  this  the  right  tense  7 

® Ruskin:  Mornings  in  Florence ; The  Shepherd’s  Tower. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


141 


and  sensible  shooting  suits,  are  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
keepers  in  attendance.”  ^ 

This  last  sentence  is  an  instance  of  what  has  been  called  “ a 
squinting  construction.”  ^ 

IV.  The  principal,  or  (as  Blair  calls  them)  the  capital, 
words  in  a sentence  should  he  “ so  placed  as  important 

, ,11  11-  i 1 1 o words  should 

to  stand  clear  and  disentangled  Irom  any  stand  dear 
other  words  that  would  clog  them.”  ^ words. 

“Observe  the  arrangement  of  the  following  sentence  in  Lord 
Shaftesbury’s  ‘ Advice  to  an  Author.’  He  is  speaking  of  modern 
poets,  as  compared  with  the  ancient : ‘ If,  whilst  they  profess  only 
to  please,  they  secretly  advise,  and  give  instruction,  they  may  now, 
perhaps,  as  well  as  formerly,  be  esteemed,  with  justice,  the  best 
and  most  honorable  among  authors.’  This  is  a well-constructed 
sentence;  it  contains  a great  many  circumstances  and  adverbs, 
necessary  to  qualify  the  meaning,  — only,  secretly,  as  well,  perhaps, 
now,  with  justice,  formerly ; yet  these  are  placed  with  so  much  art, 
as  neither  to  embarrass  nor  * weaken  the  sentence ; while  that  which 
is  the  capital  object  in  it  — namely,  ‘Poets  being  justly  esteemed 
the  best  and  most  honorable  among  authors  ’ — comes  out  in  the 
conclusion  clear  and  detached,  and  possesses  its  proper  place.  See, 
now,  what  would  have  been  the  effect  of  a different  arrangement. 
Suppose  him  to  have  placed  the  members  of  the  sentence  thus  : ‘ If, 
whilst  they  profess  to  please  only,  they  advise,  and  give  instruction 
secretly,  they  may  be  esteemed  the  best  and  most  honorable  among 
authors,  w’ith  justice,  perhaps,  now  as  well  as  formerly.’  Here  we 
have  precisely  the  same  words  and  the  same  sense;  but,  by  means 
of  the  circumstances  being  so  intermingled  as  to  clog  the  capital 
words,  the  whole  becomes  perplexed,  without  grace,  and  without 
strength.”  ® 

The  second  form  of  the  foregoing  sentence  also  violates,  it 
may  be  added,  particularly  in  the  position  of  “ with  justice  ” and 
of  “ perhaps  now  as  w'ell  as  formerly,”  the  rule  as  to  the  proper 
position  of  parenthetical  expressions.® 

1 Pall  Mall  Budget.  (1875.)  See  also  pp.  2,  3.3,  48,  102. 

2 See  also  the  first  sentence  on  p.  136. 

2 Blair:  Rhetoric,  lect.  xii.  Is  a word  wanting  here  ? 

® Blair;  Rhetoric,  lect.  xii.  ® See  p.  140.  S^fe  alsb  p.  160. 


142 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


The  following  is  another  instance  of  defective  combination:  — 

“ A modern  newspaper  statement,  though  probably  true,  would 
be  laughed  at,  if  quoted  in  a book  as  testimony ; but  the  letter  of  a 
court  gossip  is  thought  good  historical  evidence,  if  written  some 
centuries  ago.” 

This  sentence  Herbert  Spencer  would  rearrange,  as  follows : 

“ Though  probably  true,  a modern  newspaper  statement,  quoted 
in  a book  as  testimony,  would  be  laughed  at ; but  the  letter  of  a 
court  gossip,  if  written  some  centuries  ago,  is  thought  good  histori- 
cal evidence.”  ^ 

Still  another  arrangement  may,  however,  be  suggested;  — 

“ A modern  newspaper  statement  quoted  in  a book  as  testimony, 
though  probably  true,  would  be  laughed  at;  but  the  letter  of  a court 
gossip,  if  written  some  centuries  ago,  is  thought  good  historical 
evidence.” 

The  last  form  seems  the  best  of  the  three,  for  three  reasons : the 
position  oi though  probably  true^^  clearly  shows  that  that  expression 
qualifies  (as  was  intended),  not  “ a modern  newspaper  statement,” 
but  ‘‘a  modem  newspaper  statement  quoted  in  a book  as  testi- 
mony; ” and  the  removal  of  this  qualifying  phrase  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  sentence  not  only  brings  the  principal  subject  to  the 
front,2  but  also  gives  superior  clearness  and  force  to  the  antithesis  ® 
between  the  two  members  of  the  sentence. 

V.  Force  requires  that  the  “ capital”  word  or  words  in 
Important  a Sentence  should  be  put  in  the  place  where 
should  be  they  Will  make  the  strongest  impression, 
places.  That  place  Avill  usually  be  at  the  beginning 
of  a sentence,  or  as  near  it  as  is  practicable,  or  at  the 
end ; but  it  may  be  in  the  middle.^  On  this  point  no 
rule  can  be  given,  the  question  is  affected  by  so  many 
and  such  various  considerations,  — considerations  drawn 
from  the  character  of  the  sentence  in  hand,  from  the 
character  of  the  preceding  or  the  succeeding  sentence, 

1 Spencer : Philosophy  of  Style.  See  p.  136.  **  See  V.,  below. 

® See  p.  129. 

^ See  the  position  of  “bounced,”  for  example,  in  the  sentence  from  Dr. 
Johnson  quoted  on  p.  147. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


143 


from  the  nature  of  the  subject-matter,  and  from  tlie 

presumed  mental  attitude  of  the  persons  addressed. 

The  operation  of  this  rule  is,  however,  shackled  by  a 

grammatical  limitation  upon  the  English  as 

compared  with  the  Latin  or  the  German  Upon  this  rule 

11  Knglish. 

arrangement.  In  highly  inllected  languages, 
the  subject,  the  indirect  object,  and  the  direct  object 
of  the  verb  being  readily  distinguished  by  their  termi- 
nations, their  relative  positions  can  be  changed  at  will; 
but  in  languages  in  which  the  subject  and  the  object 
are,  for  the  most  part,  the  same  in  form,  the  order  is 
always  an  important  and  sometimes  a necessary  means 
of  determining  whether  a word  is  subject  or  object. 


In  Latin,  for  example,  it  is  possible  to  arrange  in  six  different 
ways,  each  with  a meaning  of  its  own,  the  three  words  signifying 
that  Nero  killed  Agrippina  : — 

Nero  inlerfecil  Agrippinam;  Agrippinam  interfecit  Nero;  Nero 
Agrippinam  inlerfecil ; Agrippinam  Nero  inlerfecil ; inlerfecil  Nero 
Agrippinam  ; inlerfecil  Agrippinam  Nero. 

In  English,  however,  the  only  means  of  giving  special  emphasis 
to  i)ne  of  the  words  in  such  a sentence  is  by  a circumlocution.  Thus, 
we  may  fix  the  attention  upon  the  name  of  the  murderer  by  say- 
ing, “ It  was  Nero  who  killed  Agrippina.”  In  this  sentence  the 
words  il  teas  are  like  a hand  pointing  to  Nero  as  the  principal  ob- 
ject of  interest.  This,  therefore,  would  be  the  natural  form  of 
expression,  if  the  fact  that  Agrippina  had  been  killed  was  known 
while  the  name  of  the  murderer  was  still  unknown.  If,  however, 
the  only  fact  known  was  that  Nero  had  killed  somebodg,  it  wmuld 
be  more  natural  to  say : “ It  was  Agrippina  whom  Nero  killed.”  If, 
again,  the  question  was  what  Nero  did  to  Agrippina,  we  should 
say.  “Nero  actually  murdered  Agrippina.” 


A simple  illustration  like  the  above  is  sufficient  to 
show  that  the  usual  English  order  — subject  The  gram- 
first,  then  verb,  then  object  — is  not  neces- 

• 11  1 1 1 • 1 1 X always  the 

sanly  the  natural  or  the  logical  order.  Jn  real  subject. 


144 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


many  cases,  no  doubt,  it  is  natural  to  name  the  sub- 
ject before  saying  any  thing  about  it ; but  in  other 
cases,  it  is  equally  natural  — even  when  the  subject  is 
unknown  — to  begin  with  the  predicate,  or  with  a part 
of  the  predicate:  for  the  real  subject  of  the  sentence 
may  not  be  the  grammatical  subject.  The  homely 
proverb,  “ Nearest  the  heart,  nearest  the  mouth,”  dic- 
tates the  arrangement  of  many  sentences,  whether  in 
speech  or  in  writing.  For  example  : — 

Now  is  your  time;”  ‘O/u's  is  what  he  said;”  '•‘■such  a show 
I never  saw  before;  ” “ what  a good  ride  we  had;  ” “ had  I known 
you  were  sick,  I should  have  come  last  week;  ” “ how  glad  I am  to 
see  you  again;  ” “ he  jumped;”  ''■down  dropped  the  thermome- 
ter; ” “ there  goes  the  express;  ” “ ‘ she  was,’  said  he,  ‘ the  best  of 
mothers;  ’ ” “ ‘ the  authorities,’  writes  my  lawyer,  ‘ are  divided;’  ” 
“ not  once  was  he  defeated;  ” “ last  of  all  marched  the  Seventh  Regi- 
ment; ” “ him  they  didn’t  care  for;  ” “ he  shall.” 

Between  these  examples  from  every  day  conversation  and  the 
following  from  the  poets,  there  is,  as  regards  the  arrangement,  no 
appreciable  difference : — 

“ Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 
Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York.”  1 
“ Since  I was  man. 

Such  sheets  off  re,  such  bursts  of  horrid  thunder. 

Such  groans  of  roaring  wind  and  rain,  I never 
Remember  to  have  heard.”  2 
“ So  spaTce  th’  Apostate  angel,  though  in  pain.”  « 

'•‘■Before  the  Gates  there  sat 
On  either  side  a formidable  shape.”  ® 

“ At  last  his  sail-broad  vans 
He  spreads  for  flight.”  ^ 

“ Not  in  the  legions 

Of  horrid  hell,  can  come  a devil  more  damn’d 
In  evils,  to  top  Macbeth.”  ■* 

1 Shakspere : Richard  III.,  act  i.  scene  i. 

2 Ibid. : King  Lear,  act  iii.  scene  ii. 

8 Milto.n : Paradise  Lost,  book  i.  line  125;  book  ii.  lines  048,  927. 

Shakspere : Macbeth,  act  iv.  scene  iii. 


Cn.vp.  III.( 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


145 


• “ So  died  Earl  Doorm  by  him  he  counted  dead.”  1 

“ Bound  for  the  Hall,  I am  sure  was  he,”  2 

“ Him  Heaven  had  kneaded  of  much  more  potent  stuff.”  ® 

III  prose,  however,  a sentence,  though  it  may  begin 
with  part  of  a verb  or  with  a participle,  — Ditierences 
as  '•'‘go  he  would;”  '■'■fallen^  fallen  is  Babylon,  poetJca"and 
that  great  city,”  — cannot,  unless  it  is  iinper- 
ative,  interrogative,  or  exclamatory,  liave  the  whole 
verb  at  the  beginning  ; but  poetry  takes  greater  license. 
For  example : — 

“ Flashed  all  their  sabres  bare.”  5 
“ The  Night-winds  sigh,  the  breakers  roar, 

And  shrieks  the  wild  sea-mew.”  ® 

“ Outburst  all  with  one  accord.”  7 

So,  too,  poetry,  as  prose  cannot  do,  permits  itself,  at 
tlie  risk  of  obscurity  or  ambiguitj^,  to  put  subject  and 
object  before  the  verb,  even  when  there  is  nothing  in 
the  form  to  distinguish  tlie  one  from  the  other. 

“ The  rising  tomb  a lofty  column  bore.”  8 
“ And  thus  the  son  the  fervent  sire  addrest.”  8 

Poetry  also  may  put  a much  larger  part  of  a long 
predicate  before  the  verb  and  its  subject  than  the 
boldest  prose  can  do.  For  example  : — 

“ Deep  in  the  shad}’  sadness  of  a vale 
Far  sunken  from  the  healthy  breath  of  morn. 

Far  from  the  fiery  noon,  and  eve's  one  star. 

Sat  grey-hair’d  Saturn,  quiet  as  a stone.”  9 

“ About  fourscore  years  ago,  there  used  to  be  seen  sauntering  on 
the  terraces  of  Sans  Souci,  for  a short  time  in  the  afternoon,  or  you 

1 Tennyson : Enid.  - Ibid. : Maud. 

3 Carlyle:  History  of  Frederick  The  Great,  book  i.  chap.  ii. 

^ Suggested  by  Dr.  Campbell  as  better  than  the  usual  translation. 

5 Tennyson : Charge  of  the  Eight  brigade. 

« Byron:  Childe  Harold,  i.  xiii.  i.  ' Browning:  Herve  Kiel. 

8 Pope:  Odyssey,  book  xii.  line  21 ; book  xix.  line  4. 

8 Ke;\ts : Hyperion.  See,  also,  Milton : Paradise  Lost,  book  i.  line  1 ; book  ii. 
line  1. 


146 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  IL 


might  have  met  him  elsewhere  at  an  earlier  hour,  riding  or  driving 
in  a rapid  business  manner  on  the  open  roads  or  through  the  scraggy 
woods  and  avenues  of  that  intricate  amphibious  Potsdam  region,  a 
highly  interesting  lean  little  old  man,  of  alert  though  slightly  stoop- 
ing figure;  whose  name  among  strangers  was  King  Friedrich  the 
Second,  or  Frederick  the  Great  of  Prussia,  and  at  home  among  the 
common  people,  who  much  loved  and  esteemed  him,  was  Vater 
Fritz,  — Father  Fred,  — a name  of  familiarity  which  had  not  bred 
contempt  in  that  instance.  Pie  is  a king,  every  inch  of  him, 
though  without  the  trappings  of  a king.  ’ ’ i 

Though  the  first  of  Carlyle’s  sentences  pushes  the  grammatical 
subject  as  far  from  the  beginning  as  possible,  yet  the  verb  comes 
early  and  with  a provisional  subject  (there) : but  still,  even  for  a 
“ proem,”  the  verb  is  rather  far  from  the  real  subject;  and  so,  per- 
haps, the  author  feels  it  to  be,  for  he  relieves  the  attention  by  mak- 
ing the  succeeding  sentence  brief  and  simple. 

The  opening  paragraph  of  Hawthorne’s  “House  of  the  Seven 
Gables  ” furnishes  another  excellent  illustration  of  the  privileges 
of  the  prose  writer,  in  point  of  arrangement,  as  well  as  of  his 
limitations : — 

“ Half-way  down  a by-street  of  one  of  our  New  England  towns, 
stands  a rusty  wooden  house,  with  seven  acutely-peaked  gables, 
facing  towards  various  points  of  the  compass,  and  a huge,  clustered 
chimney  in  the  midst.  The  street  is  Pyncheon  Street;  the  house 
is  the  old  Pyncheon-house ; and  an  elm-tree,  of  wide  circumference, 
rooted  before  the  door,  is  familiar  to  every  town-born  child  by  the 
title  of  the  Pyncheon-elm.  On  my  occasional  visits  to  the  town 
aforesaid,  I seldom  fail  to  turn  down  Pyncheon  Street,  for  the  sake 
of  passing  through  the  shadow  of  these  two  antiquities,  — the  great 
elm-tree,  and  the  weather-beaten  edifice.”  ^ 

The  reproduction,  in  translations  from  the  Latin, 
Greek,  or  German,  of  an  arrangement  natural  to  those 
languages,  but  foreign  to  the  genius  of  ours, 
i.atiii  or  Ger-  is  a fault  that  Springs  frequently  from  igno- 

Diaii  order.  , „ - . 

ranee,  but  sometimes  irom  design. 


1 Carlyle:  Frederick  The  Great,  book  i.  chap.  i.  (Proem.) 

2 See  p.  111. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


147 


“Mr.  Gordon,  who  followed  this  inverted  style  in  his  transla- 
tion of  Tacitus,  has  sometimes  done  such  violence  to  the  language 
as  even  to  appear  ridiculous ; as  in  this  expression : ‘ Into  this  hole 
thrust  themselves  three  Roman  senators.’  lie  has  translated  so 
simple  a phrase  as,  ‘ Bellum  ea  tempestale  nullum,'’  by  ‘ AVar  at  that 
time  there  was  none.’  ” ^ 

Some  of  Dr.  Johnson’s  sentences  seem  to  have  been  constructed 
on  this  model:  — 

“ His  letters  from  the  Hebrides  to  Mrs.  Thrale  are  the  original 
of  that  work  of  which  the  Journey  to  the  Hebrides  is  the  transla- 
tion ; and  it  is  amusing  to  compare  the  two  versions.  ‘ When  we 
were  taken  upstairs,’  says  he  in  one  of  his  letters,  ‘a  dirty  fellow 
bounced  out  of  the  bed  on  which  one  of  us  was  to  lie.’  This  inci- 
dent is  recorded  in  the  Journey  as  follows:  ‘ Out  of  one  of  the  beds 
on  which  we  were  to  repose  started  up,  at  our  entrance,  a man 
black  as  a Cyclops  from  the  forge.’ ’’^ 

Macaulay  cites  these  two  ways  of  saying  the  same  thing  as  illus- 
trative of  Ur.  Johnson’s  preference  for  “ fine  words  over  the  simple 
and  picturesque  ones  that  were  at  his  command;  ” and  certainly 
the  word  “ bounced  ” gives  to  the  first  version  a life  which  is 
absent  from  the  second : but  iu  the  second  version,  “ the  style 
is  characterized  as  unidiomatic,  quite  as  much  by  the  suspension 
of  the  sense  in  consequence  of  the  complicated  inversion,  ‘ out  of 
one  of  the  beds,’  &c.,  as  by  the  selection  of  the  words  which  compose 
it.”  * The  first  follows  the  order  in  which  one  would  naturally  tell 
the  story;  the  second,  though  arranged  precisely  like  the  effective 
lines  with  which  Keats  opens  Hyperion,^  is  unnatural  in  prose,  and 
especially  so  in  the  account  of  so  simple  an  incident. 

This  Latin  or  German  structure  of  sentence  was 
elevated  by  Bentham  into  a matter  of  principle. 

“ He  could  not  bear,  for  the  sake  of  clearness  and  the  reader'' s ease, 

to  say,  as  ordinary  men  are  content  to  do,  a little  more 

’ •'  ...  Theories  of 

than  the  truth  in  one  sentence,  and  correct  it  in  the  Bentham  and 

next.  The  whole  of  the  qualifying  remarks  which  he 

intended  to  make  he  insisted  upon  embedding  as  parentheses  in  the 

1 Blair:  Rhetoric,  lect.  xii. 

2 Macaulay:  Essay  on  Boswell’s  Johnson. 

® Marsh : English  Language,  lect.  vii. 


* See  p.  145. 


148 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


very  middle  of  the  sentence  itself;  and  thus,  the  sense  being  so  long 
suspended,  and  attention  being  required  to  the  accessory  ideas  before 
the  principal  idea  had  been  properly  seized,  it  became  difficult,  -with- 
out some  practice,  to  make  out  the  train  of  thought.”  While  aim- 
ing at  impracticable  precision,  Benthara  “ could  stop  nowhere  short 
of  utter  unreadableness;  and,  after  all,  attained  no  more  accuracy 
than  is  compatible  with  opinions  as  imperfect  and  one-sided  as 
those  of  any  poet  or  sentimentalist  breathing.  ” Yet,  according 
to  the  same  authority,  “ nearly  all  Bentham’s  earlier  and  many 
parts  of  his  later  writings  are  models  of  light,  playful,  and  popular 
style.”  ^ 

Though  not  carrying  his  preference  for  the  inverted 
(or,  as  he  calls  it,  the  direct)  style  to  such  lengths 
as  Bentham  did,  Herbert  Speneer^  pushes  the  the- 
ory very  far : as,  for  example,  in  maintaining  the  su- 
periority of  the  English  order  in  “ black  horse  ” to  the 
French  order  in  cheval  noir ; and  in  arguing  that,  a 
few  eases  exeepted,  the  simile  should  come  before  the 
object  it  illustrates,  — as  if  almost  every  imaginative 
writer  did  not  abound  in  instances  of  the  opposite 
practice.^ 

As  regards  the  last  point,  it  would  seem  that,  if  there 
Position  of  is  any  principle  in  the  matter,  it  must  be  one 
similes.  derived  from  the  nature  and  function  of  figu- 
rative language,  as  serving  either  to  impress  or  to 
explain  a thought.^  When  used  for  the  former  purpose 
exclusively,  the  illustration  should  as  a rule  come  first, 
that  it  may,  by  calling  up  appropriate  ideas,  prepare  the 
mind  for  what  is  to  follow.  If,  in  such  a case,  it  came 
second,  it  would  serve  no  purpose  but  that  of  ornament, 
and  it  might  seriously  interrupt  the  flow  of  thought. 

f Mill : Dissertations  and  Discussions,  vol.  i.  p.  415. 

2 Philosophy  of  Style. 

® See,  for  example,  Shelley  : Sensitive  Plant ; Keats  : St.  Agnes’  Eve. 

’ See  p.  98. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


149 


Hence,  the  propriety  of  the  order  adopted  in  the  following  lines: 
“ds  wreath  of  snow,  on  mountain  breast, 

Slides  from  the  rock  that  gave  it  rest. 

Poor  Ellen  glided  from  her  sta3', 

And  at  the  Monarch’s  feet  she  laj'.”  i 

Evidently  the  first  two  lines  are  not  needed  to  render  the  third 
line  intelligible.  As  they  stand,  they  create  sympatliy  with  Ellen : 
if  placed  after  the  third  line,  they  would  obstruct  the  narrative; 
for,  the  moment  the  reader  knows  that  Ellen  is  at  the  king’s  feet, 
his  interest  in  the  manner  of  her  getting  there  is  lost  in  his  desire 
to  know  what  happened  next. 

When,  on  the  other  hand,  the  simile  completes  the 
meaning,  it  is,  whatever  its  position,  a necessary  part 
of  the  statement.  In  this  case,  therefore,  not  only  do 
the  objections  to  putting  it  in  the  second  place  disap- 
pear, but  that  place  is  usually  preferred. 

Spencer’s  quotation  from  Alexander  Smith’s  “ Life  Drama”  is 
in  point:  — 

“ I see  the  future  stretch 
All  dark  and  barren  as  a rainj'  sea.” 

Here  it  is  evident  that  the  vague  word  “ stretch  ” needs  to  be  ren- 
dered clear  by  the  words  which  follow  it.  Other  examples  are: 

“ Thence  up  he  flew,  and  on  the  tree  of  life 
Sat  like  a cormorant.”  ^ 

“ The  chief’s  eye  flaslied;  his  plans  soared  up  again  like  fire.”  ® 

Frequently,  however,  a figure  of  speech  serves  partly 
to  explain  and  pai’tly  to  enforce  the  meaning.  In  such 
cases,  a skilful  writer  will  place  it  at  that  point  in  the 
sentence  where  it  will  effectively  serve  both  purposes. 
For  example : — 

“ This  has  caused  such  powerful  invasions  of  bank  paper,  like 
sudden  and  succeeding  flights  of  birds  of  prey  and  passage,  and  the 
rapid  disappearance  of  specie  at  its  approach.”  ^ 

t Scott;  Lady  of  the  Lake,  vi.  xxvii. 

2 Milton  : Paradise  Lost,  book  iv.  line  194. 

3 Browning:  Incident  of  the  French  Camp.  For  other  examples,  see  pp.  92, 93. 

^ Webster : Works,  vol.  v.  p.  408. 


150 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  IL 


“ ’Tis  thine,  0 Glenullin ! whose  bride  sliall  await, 

Like  a love-lighted  watch-fire,  all  night  at  the  gate.”  1 

“ An  author’s  pen,  like  children’s  legs,  improves  by  exercise.” ^ 

For  an  example  of  what  he  considers  the  Lest  arrange- 
ment, theoretically,  Spencer  has  recourse  to  Ossian ; 
but  even  in  the  selected  passage  the  position  of  the 
verb  in  the  first  two  similes  does  not  conform  to  the 
theory.  In  other  respects,  however,  the  passage  is  in 
point.  “ The  simile  comes  before  the  qualified  image, 
the  adjectives  before  the  substantives,  the  predicate  and 
copula  before  the  subject,  and  their  respective  comple- 
ments before  them.”  ^ 

“ As  autumn’sdark  storms  pour  from  two  echoing  hills,  so  towards 
each  other  approached  the  heroes.  As  two  dark  streams  from  high 
rocks  meet  and  mix  and  roar  on  the  plain:  loud,  rough,  and  dark 
in  battle  meet  Lochlin  and  Inisfail.  ...  As  the  troubled  noise 
of  the  ocean  w'hen  roll  the  waves  on  high;  as  the  last  peal  of  the 
thunder  of  heaven,  — such  is  the  noise  of  the  battle.” 

Had  this  passage  followed  “the  theoretically  best 
arrangement”  throughout,  it  would  have  been  even 
more  bombastic  than  it  is ; and  bombast  — or  strength 
of  language  which  is  dispropjortioned  to  the  strength  of 
thought,  and  which  emphasizes  sound  rather  than  sense 
— is  far  from  being  synonymous  with  that  Force  which 
constitutes  effective  expression.  Even  Ossian’s  best 
passages  are  not  characterized  by  a predominance  of 
the  “ direct  ” order.  For  example  : — 

“ I have  seen  the  walls  of  Balclutha,  but  they  were  desolate. 
The  fox  looked  out  from  the  windows,  the  rank  grass  of  the  wall 
waved  round  her  head.  Raise  the  song  of  mourning,  O bards, 
over  the  land  of  strangers!  They  have  but  fallen  before  us,  for 

1 Campbell:  Lochiel’s  Warning. 

2 Coleridge : The  Friend,  vol.  i.,  Essay  iii. 

® Spencer : Philosophy  of  Style. 


CiiAr.  III.) 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


151 


one  day  we  must  fall.  Why  dost  thou  build  the  hall,  son  of  the 
winged  days?  Thou  lookest  from  thy  towers  to-day;  yet  a few 
years,  and  the  blast  of  the  desert  comes;  it  howls  in  thy  empty 
court,  and  whistles  round  thy  half-worn  shield.  Let  the  blast  of 
the  desert  come!  we  shall  be  renowned  in  our  day.”  ^ 

Whatever  arrangement  may,  according  to  Bentham^ 
or  to  Spencer, 2 be  theoretically  the  best,  the 

, . j • • 1 • 1 The  natural 

best  arrangement  in  practice  is  that  which  — order  the 
whether  “ direct  ” or  “ indirect,”  “ inverted  ” 
or  “ natural  ” — conduces  most  to  “ clearness  and  the 
reader’s  ease.”  In  the  order,  as  well  as  in  the  choice 
and  number  of  his  words,  an  author  who  aims  at  the 
effective  communication  of  thought  or  feeling  to  the 
general  public  must  sometimes  sacrifice  precision  to 
Perspicuity ; for  under  this,  as  under  other  aspects. 
Perspicuity  is  a relative  quality.  Any  order,  Avhether 
“ natural  ” or  not  in  theory,  Avhich  is  natural  to  the  per- 
sons addressed,  is  clearer,  as  Avell  as  more  forcible,  than 
one  which  strikes  them  as  strange,  and  by  its  strange- 
ness calls  attention  from  the  substance  to  the  form  of 
the  sentence. 

Were  it  possible,  within  our  limits,  to  pursue  the 
discussion,  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  showing  that, 
generally  speaking,  those  writers  whose  style  is  most 
artificial  are  most  addicted  to  poetical  or  “ harsh  inver- 
sions, so  Avidel}^  different  from  those  graceful  and  easy 
inversions  which  give  variety,  spirit,  and  sweetness  to 
the  expression  of  our  great  old  writers ; ” ^ and  that 
those  who  are  distinguished  by  idiomatic  ease  vary  the 
order  of  words  in  successive  sentences  so  naturally  that 
the  arrangement  is  not  noticed. 

1 Matthew  Arnold : Study  of  Celtic  Literature,  p.  153.  Cited  as  a specimen 
of  Celtic  genius. 

* See  pp.  147-150. 


s Macaulay:  Essay  on  Boswell’s  Johnson. 


152 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  IL 


These  principles  afford  a simple  and  sufficient  answer 
to  the  vexed  question  as  to  the  value  of  the 
and  loose  periodic  Sentence  — or  sentence  in  which  the 

SdilciiccSt 

meaning  is  suspended  till  the  end  — as  com- 
pared with  the  loose  sentence^  or  sentence  which  could 
have  been  brought  to  a grammatical  close  at  one  or 
more  points  before  the  end. 


Loose. 


Pekiodic. 


“ We  came  to  our  journey’s 
end,  at  last,  with  no  small  dif- 
ficulty, after  much  fatigue, 
through  deep  roads,  and  bad 
weather.” 


‘ ‘ At  last,  with  no  small  dif- 
ficulty, after  much  fatigue, 
through  deep  roads,  and  bad 
weather,  we  came  to  our  jour 
ney’s  end.” 


The  first  form  is  objectionable,  because  it  is  so  very  loose  that 
the  reader  five  times  — at  each  of  the  five  commas  — thinks  that 
ne  has  finished,  and  five  times  is  disappointed;  the  second  form 
is  objectionable  because,  long  before  the  enumeration  of  the  quali- 
fying circumstances  is  finished,  the  reader  has  become  impatient  to 
learn  what  the  fact  is  that  requires  such  an  elaborate  introduction. 
By  placing  a portion  of  the  predicate  in  the  midst  of  the  qualifying 
circumstances,  we  can  avoid  the  disadvantages  of  each  form  and 
secure  the  advantages  of  both.  Thus;  — 


“ At  last,  after  much  fatigue, 
through  deep  roads  and  bad 
weather,  we  came,  with  no 
small  difficulty,  to  our  journey’s 
end.” ^ 


“ At  last,  with  no  small  diffi- 
culty, and  after  much  fatigue, 
we  came,  through  deep  roads 
and  bad  weather,  to  our  jour- 
ney’s end.”^ 


When  the  modifying  expressions  are  so  few  and  sim- 
ple that  it  is  as  easy  to  understand  the  sentence  in  the 
periodic  as  in  the  loose  form,  the  former  is  often  pre- 
ferred ; and  that,  too,  even  where  the  periodic  sentence 
is  a little  longer  than  the  corresponding  loose  sentence 


1 Whatelj':  Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  xii. 

2 Spencer : Philosophy  of  Style.  Which  of  these  two  forms  is  the  better  ? 
See  p.  133. 


Chap.  111.] 


AKRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


153 


would  be.  Hence  the  existence  in  all  languages  of 
particles  that  serve  no  other  purpose  than  to  indicate 
that  the  sentence  in  Avhich  they  occur  is  not  yet  ended. 
In  Greek  and  Latin,  such  particles  are  numerous : in 
English,  though  comparatively  few,  they  are  often  use- 
ful, as  is  shown  by  the  following  examples  : — 


Loose. 

This  was  forbidden  by  taste, 
as  well  as  by  judgment. 

This  disposition  saves  him 
from  offending  his  opponents, 
and  also  from  alienating  his 
supporters. 

lie  kept  himself  alive  with 
the  fish  he  caught,  or  with  the 
goats  he  shot. 

The  world  is  not  eternal,  nor 
is  it  the  work  of  chance. 

The  Homans  consider  reli- 
gion a part  of  virtue,  the  Jews 
virtue  a part  of  religion. 

Ilis  actions  were  frequently 
criticised,  but  his  character  was 
above  criticism. 

He  can  talk  when  there  ’s 
anybody  worth  talking  to. 

Ilis  word  may  be  as  good  as 
his  bond,  but  we  have  still  to 
a.sk  how  good  his  bond  is. 

One  generation  would  have 
no  advantage  over  another,  if 
this  opinion  were  well-founded. 

I shall  not  vote  for  this 
measure,  unless  it  is  clearly 
constitutional. 

What  is  flour  worth  in  gold, 
if  it  costs  f 10  a barrel  in  silver? 


Peiuodic. 

This  was  forbidden  both  by 
taste  and  by  judgment. 

This  disposition  saves  him, 
on  the  one  hand,  from  offending 
his  opponents ; on  the  other  hand, 
from  alienating  his  supporters. 

He  kept  himself  alive  either 
with  the  fish  he  caught,  or  with 
the  goats  he  shot. 

The  world  is  neither  eternal 
nor  the  work  of  chance. 

While  the  Romans  consider 
religion  a part  of  virtue,  the 
Jews,  on  the  contrary,  consider 
virtue  a part  of  religion. 

Though  his  actions  were  fre- 
quently criticised,  his  character 
was  above  criticism. 

When  there ’s  anybody  worth 
talking  to,  he  can  talk. 

Granting  that  his  word  is  as 
good  as  his  bond,  we  have  still 
to  ask  how  good  his  bond  is. 

Were  this  opinion  well-found- 
ed, one  generation  would  have 
no  advantage  over  another. 

Unless  this  measure  is  clearly 
constitutional,  I shall  not  vote 
for  it. 

]f  flour  costs  §10  a barrel  in 
silver,  what  is  it  worth  in  gold? 


154 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


If,  however,  the  restricting  clauses  are  numerous  or 
involved,  the  principal  assertion  should  be  brought 
into  the  first  part  of  the  sentence.  In  such  a case,  it 
may  he  necessary  to  put  some  of  the  qualifications  into 
another  sentence. 

The  argument  against  “endless  and  labyrinthine 
sentences  ” is  forcibly  stated  by  De  Quincey,  and  that 
against  “ short  and  unconnected  ” ones  by  Coleridge. 

“Those  who  are  not  accustomed  to  watch  the  effects  of  com- 
The  case  position  upon  the  feelings,  or  have  had  little  experi- 
fabyrfnthiiie  hi  voluminous  reading  pursued  for  weeks,  would 

sentences.  scarcely  imagine  how  much  of  downright  physical 
exhaustion  is  produced  by  what  is  technically  called  the  periodic 
style  of  writing:  it  is  not  the  length,  the  direpavToXoyia,  the  paralytic 
flux  of  words;  it  is  not  even  the  cumbrous  involution  of  parts 
within  parts,  separately  considered,  that  bears  so  heavily  upon  the 
attention.  It  is  the  suspense,  the  holding  on,  of  the  mind  until 
what  is  called  the  oTroSocrty,  or  coming  round  of  the  sentence  com- 
mences,— this  it  is  which  wears  out  the  faculty  of  attention.  A 
sentence,  for  example,  begins  with  a series  of  ifs  ; perhaps  a dozen 
lines  are  occupied  with  expanding  the  conditions  under  which 
something  is  affirmed  or  denied;  hei’e  you  cannot  dismiss  and 
have  done  with  the  ideas  as  you  go  along:  all  is  hypothetic;  all 
is  suspended  in  air.  The  conditions  are  not  fully  to  be  under- 
stood until  you  are  acquainted  with  the  dependency:  you  must 
give  a separate  attention  to  each  clause  of  this  complex  hypothesis, 
and  yet,  having  done  that  by  a painful  effort,  you  have  done  noth- 
ing at  all;  for  you  must  exercise  a reacting  attention  through  the 
corresponding  latter  section,  in  order  to  follow  out  its  relations 
to  all  parts  of  the  hypothesis  which  sustains  it.  In  fact,  under 
the  rude  yet  also  aidificial  character  of  newspaper^  style,  each 
separate  monster  period  is  a vast  arch,  which,  not  receiving  its 
keystone,  not  being  locked  into  self-supporting  cohesion  until  you 
nearly  reach  its  close,  imposes  of  necessity  upon  the  unhappy 

1 This  is  by  no  means  the  characteristic  weakness  of  American  news- 
papers. 


Chap.  III.] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


155 


reader  all  the  onus  of  its  ponderous  weight  tlirough  the  main  process 
of  its  construction.”  ^ 

“ I can  never  so  far  sacrifice  my  judgment  to  the  desire  of  being 
immediately  popular,  as  to  cast  my  sentences  in  the 
French  moulds,  or  affect  a style  which  an  ancient  against® 
critic  would  have  deemed  purposely  invented  for  per-  asthmatic 
sons  troubled  with  the  asthma  to  read,  and  for  those  to 
comprehend  who  labor  under  the  more  pitiable  astluna  of  a short- 
witted  intellect.  It  cannot  but  be  injurious  to  the  human  mind 
never  to  be  called  into  effort;  the  habit  of  receiving  pleasure  with- 
out any  exertion  of  thought,  by  the  mere  excitement  of  curiosity 
and  sensibility,  may  be  justly  ranked  among  the  worst  effects,  of 
habitual  novel  reading.  It  is  true  that  these  short  and  unconnected 
sentences  are  easily  and  instantly  understood;  but  it  is  equally  true 
that,  wanting  all  the  cement  of  thought  as  well  as  of  style,  all  the 
connections,  and  (if  you  will  forgive  so  trivial  a metaifiior)  all  the 
hooks-and-eyes  of  the  memory,  they  are  as  easily  forgotten : or,  rather, 
it  is  scarcely  possible  that  they  should  be  remembered.  Nor  is  it 
less  true,  that  those  who  confine  their  reading  to  such  books  dwai'f 
their  own  faculties,  and  finally  reduce  their  understandings  to  a de- 
ifiorable  imbecility.  . . . Like  idle  morning  visitors,  the  brisk  and 
breathless  periods  hurry  in  and  hurry  off  in  quick  and  profitless  suc- 
cession; each  indeed  for  the  moments  of  its  stay  prevents  the  pain 
of  vacancy,  while  it  indulges  tlie  love  of  sloth ; but  all  together  they 
leave  the  mistress  of  the  house  (the  soul  I mean)  flat  and  exhausted, 
incapable  of  attending  to  her  owm  concerns,  and  unfitted  for  the 
conversation  of  more  i-ational  guests.”'^ 

Even  where  the  distinction  between  a long  and  a 
short  sentence  consists  chiefly  in  pnnetua-  Long  or  short 
tion,3  the  mere  substitution  of  colons  or  semi-  sentences, 
colons  for  periods  makes  a world  of  difference  to  the 
reader.  A long  sentence  that  contains  a number  of 
short  sentences  presents,  on  the  one  hand,  a thought  as 
a whole,  but  may,  on  the  other  hand,  even  when  well- 
constructed,  be  difficult  to  follow : a short  sentence, 

1 De  Quincey : Essay  on  Style. 

2 Coleridge:  The  Friend;  vol.  i.  Essay  iii.  8 gee  Appendix,  p.  270. 


156 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


though  clear  in  itself  and  as  far  as  it  goes,  may  not  he 
easy  to  connect  with  the  context.  In  unbroken  succes- 
sion, long  sentences  fatigue  both  eye  and  mind  ; short 
sentences  distract  them.  The  skilful  writer  alternates 
the  two,  using  the  former,  for  the  most  part,  to  explain, 
the  latter  to  enforce  his  views.^ 

It  is  sometimes  a question  whether  the  last  word  in  a 
Howtoemi  sentence  should  be  a particle  or  a longer  and 

a sentence.  important  WOl’d. 

We  may  write:  (1)  “These  were  the  authorities  [which]  he 
referred  to  or  commented  upon,”  or  (2)  “ These  were  the  author- 
ities to  which  he  referred  or  upon  which  he  commented (1)  “ Mr. 
James  Mill  was,  I believe,  the  first  who  distinctly  characterized  the 
ambiguity  and  pointed  out  how  many  errors  in  the  received  systems 
of  philosophy  it  has  had  to  ansioer  for,”  ^ or  (2)  “/or  how  many 
errors  . . . it  has  had  to  answer ; ” (1)  “ It  is  a fundamental  principle 
in  logic,  that  the  power  of  forming  classes  is  unlimited,  as  long  as 
there  is  any  (even  the  smallest)  distinction  to  found  a difference 
upon,”^  or  (2)  ‘■‘■upon  tvhich  to  found  a difference ;”  (1)  “The 
progress  of  knowledge  pointed  out  limits  to  them  or  showed  their 
truth  to  be  contingent  on  some  circumstance  not  originally  attended 
to,”  2 or  (2)  “ to  which  attention  was  not  originally  paid.” 

There  are  cases  in  which  almost  any  good  writer 
will  unhesitatingly  prefer,  for  its  ease  and  often  also  for 
its  brevity,  the  more  informal  structure,  and  others  in 
which  he  will  prefer  the  more  stately  one.  The  former 
is  more  idiomatic  than  the  latter,  and  is,  therefore,  more 
frequent  in  conversation  and  in  familiar  letters  than  in 
books,  and  more  frequent  in  Addison,  Goldsmith,  or 
Irving  than  in  Gibbon  or  Johnson.  Neither  form  can 
be  recommended  as  being  the  best  absolutely  and  in  all 


1 See  p.  111. 

^ Mill ; Logic,  book  i.  chap.  iv.  sect.  i. ; chap.  vi.  sect.  iv. ; book  iii.  chan,  iv 
sect.  ii.  See  Marsh : English  Language,  lect.  vii. 


Ghap.  III.] 


ARRANGEJIENT  OF  WORDS, 


157 


circumstances  ; for  a practised  writer  will  instinctively 
choose  the  form  which  belongs  in  the  sentence  in  hand. 

The  principles  which  regulate  the  formation  of  senten- 
ces apply  equally  well  to  paragraphs.  Sen- 

^ 1 1 1 Theforma- 

tences  in  a paragraiih,  like  ivords  or  clauses  tionofpara- 
in  a sentence,  should  (1)  follow  the  order 
of  thought;^  should  (2)  go  from  the  less  interesting  to 
the  more  interesting  in  an  ascending  series;^  should 
(3)  give  to  that  which  is  most  important  in  meaning  the 
most  prominent  position.'’^  The  ideal  paragraph  is  an 
organized  wliole,  of  which  each  part  occupies  the  only 
place  in  which  it  can  be  clearly  understood  both  in  itself 
and  in  its  relations  to  the  other  parts  of  the  paragraph. 
If  a sentence  can  be  put  in  one  place  as  well  as  in  an- 
other, there  is  a defect  somewhere,  and- usually  a defect 
of  such  gravity  that  it  cannot  be  remedied  without  re- 
casting the  sentence,  if  not  the  paragraph. 

Too  much  attention  can  hardly  be  paid  to  the  man- 
ner of  getting  from  one  sentence  or  paragraph  Tiie,artof 
to  another.  A master  of  the  art  of  transition 
moves  so  easily  and  naturally,  that  the  reader  is  hardly 
aware  of  the  steps  he  is  taking.  Such  a writer  begins 
and  ends  each  sentence  or  paragraph  so  as  to  make  it 
a link  between  the  preceding  and  the  succeeding  sen- 
tence or  paragraph ; or,  rather,  so  as  to  make  each  grow 
out  of  the  last  iind  into  the  next. 

“ We  may  take  the  opportunity  of  noticing  what  it  is  that  consti- 
tutes the  peculiar  and  characterizing  circumstance  in  Burke’s  manner 
of  composition.  It  is  this,  — that  under  his  treatment  every  truth, 
be  it  what  it  may,  every  thesis  of  a sentence,  grows  in  the  very  act 
of  unfolding  it.  Take  any  sentence  you  please  from  Dr.  John.son, 
suppose,  and  it  will  be  found  to  contain  a thought  — good  or  bad 


1 See  p.  129. 


2 See  p.  133. 


3 See  p.  142. 


158 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  IL 


— fully  preconceived.  Whereas,  in  Burke,  whatever  may  have 
been  the  preconception,  it  receives  a new  determination  or  inflection 
at  every  clause  of  the  sentence.  Some  collateral  adjunct  of  the 
main  proposition,  some  temperament  or  restraint,  some  oblique 
glance  at  its  remote  affinities,  will  invariably  be  found  to  attend 
the  progress  of  his  sentences,  — like  the  spray  from  a waterfall,  or 
the  scintillations  from  the  iron  under  the  blacksmith’s  hammer. 
Hence,  whilst  a writer  of  Dr.  Johnson’s  class  seems  only  to  look 
back  upon  his  thoughts,  Burke  looks  forward,  — and  does  in  fact 
advance  and  change  his  own  station  concurrently  with  the  ad- 
vance of  the  sentences.  This  peculiarity  is  no  doubt  in  some 
degree  due  to  the  habit  of  extempore  speaking,  but  not  to  that 
only.”  1 

A writer  may  connect  his  sentences  or  paragraphs 
by  repeating  an  idea  or  a word ; or  he  may  make 
the  connection  plain  by  means  of  a conjunction  or 
other  particle.^  The  more  he  varies  his  methods,  the 
less  likely  he  is  to  call  attention  to  them.  If  he  achieves 
the  result  without  betraying  the  processes,  he  is  justly 
said  to  have  “ a flowing  style.”  “ In  Shakspere  one 
sentence  begets  the  next  naturally ; the  meaning  is  all 
inwoven.  He  goes  on  kindling  like  a meteor  through 
the  dark  atmosphere.”  ^ 

A style  characterized  by  the  corresponding  demerit 
is  well  described  by  the  homely  French  metaphor  as 
decousu,  — a thing  of  shreds  and  patches  ; or,  to  change 
the  figure,  “ the  sentences  in  a page  have  the  same  con- 
nection with  each  other  that  marbles  have  in  a bag ; 
they  touch  without  adhering.”  ^ 

In  every  sentence,  paragraph,  or  essay,  regard  should 
Unity  of  Unity  of  composition.  However 

composition,  numei’ous  and  varied  the  parts,  they  should 

1 De  Quincey : Essay  on  Rhetoric,  note  vi. 

2 See  p.  107. 

8 Coleridge : Table  Talk. 


Chap.  III.J 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


159 


be  made  to  appear  as  parts  of  one  Avhole,  should  be  sub- 
servient to  one  principal  end.  Every  sentence  sbonld 
contain  but  one  principal  assertion ; every  paragraph 
sbonld  discuss  the  sid)ject  in  hand  from  but  one  point 
of  view  ; every  essay  or  discourse  should  treat  of  but 
one  subject,  and  of  but  one  proposition  relating  to  that 
subject  at  a time,  — digressions,  if  indulged  in  at  all, 
being  clearly  marked  as  digressions,  and  distinctly  sub- 
ordinated to  the  main  purpose.^ 

“Eveiy  man,  as  he  walks  through  the  streets,  may  contrive  to 
jot  down  an  independent  thought ; a short-hand  memorandum  of  a 
gi'eat  truth.  . . . Standing  on  one  leg,  you  may  accomplish  this. 
The  labor  of  composition  begins  when  you  have  to  put  your  sepa- 
rate threads  of  thought  into  a loom;  to  weave  them  into  a continu- 
ous whole;  to  connect,  to  introduce  them;  to  blow  them  out  or 
expand  them;  to  carry  them  to  a close.”  ^ 

Blair’s  rules  for  preserving  the  unity  of  the  sentence, 
which  with  his  examjjles  have  been  copied  by  succeed- 
ing writers,  are  as  follows  : — 

“ I.  In  the  course  of  the  same  sentence  not  to  shift  the  scene. 

“ ‘ After  we  came  to  anchor,  they  put  me  on  shore,  where  I was 
welcomed  hy  all  my  friends,  who  received  me  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness.’’ Here  the  putting  on  shoi'e  completes  one  act,  and  what 
follows  changes  the  scene,  and  should  have  made  a new  sentence.” 

Another  example  may  be  given : — 

“ I received  the  letter  you  wrote  from  Chicago  yesterday,  and, 
without  a moment’s  delay  or  waiting  for  dinner,  proceeded  at  once 
to  Mr.  Bunsby’s  office,  though  it  was  raining  at  the  time,  and  the 
clerk  said  he  had  just  telegraphed  his  acceptance.” 

“ II.  To  avoid  crowding  into  one  sentence  heterogeneous  ideas. 

“ ‘ Tillotson  died  in  this  year.  lie  was  exceedingly  beloved 
both  by  King  AVilliara  and  Queen  l^Iary,  who  nominated  Dr.  Teni- 
son,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  to  succeed  him.'  The  last  clause,  having  no 

' See  also  pp.  164,  186. 

2 Dc  Quincey : Essay  on  Style.  Examples  of  the  evil  effects  of  evading  this 
“labor  of  composition  ” are  to  be  found  in  De  Quincey’s  own  writings. 


160 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


natural  connection  with  the  leading  proposition,  ought  not  to  have 
been  included  in  the  same  sentence. 

“‘Their  march  was  through  an  uncultivated  country,  whose 
savage  inhabitants  fared  hardly,  having  no  other  riches  than  a breed 
of  lean  sheep,  ivhose  flesh  loas  rank  and  unsavory,  by  reason  of  their 
continual  feeding  upon  sea-fish.’’  ” 

Another  example  may  be  given ; — 

‘ ‘ Coningsby  who  had  lost  the  key  of  his  carpet-bag,  which  he  finally 
cut  open  ivith  a pen-knife  that  he  found  on  his  writing  table,  and  the 
blade  of  lohich  he  broke  in  the  operation,  only  reached  the  drawing-room 
as  the  figure  of  his  grandfather,  leaning  on  his  ivory  cane,  and 
following  his  guests,  was  just  visible  in  the  distance.  He  i was  soon 
overtaken.”  ^ 

The  details  about  Coningsby’s  carpet-bag  do  not  belong  in 
the  same  sentence  with  the  details  of  his  arrival  in  the  drawing- 
room. It  would  have  been  better  to  divide  the  sentence  into  two : 
the  first  enumerating  the  circumstances  that  detained  Conings- 
by; the  second  ending  with  a general  statement  about  the  late- 
ness of  his  arrival.  This,  of  course,  on  the  supposition  that  the 
particulars  about  the  carpet-bag  were  worth  mentioning  at  all.® 
This  sentence  may  also  be  deemed  objectionable  under  Blair’s 
first  rule.^ 

“ III.  To  avoid  excess  of  parenthetical  clauses. 

“ IV.  Not  to  add  members  after  a full  and  perfect  close. 

“ Temple  says  of  Fontenelle,  ‘ He  falls  so  grossly  into  the  censure 
of  the  old  poetry,  and  preference  of  the  new,  that  I could  not  read 
his  strains  without  indignation ; which  no  quality  among  men  is  so 
apt  to  raise  in  me  as  self -sufficiency.’  This  last  clause  is  an  extra- 
neous addition  to  the  sentence,  which  is  naturally  closed  at  indig- 
nation.” 

Another  example  may  be  given : — 

“Passing®  now  to  the  wind  instruments,  the  exhibit  of  the 
French  makers  stands  first,  although  it  is  small,  they  having  sent 
none  but  first-class  instruments;  and  they  have  captured  nearly 
every  prize,  which  ® is  worthy  of  note,  even  if  it  is  not  a circumstance 
which  is  very  creditable  to  native  industry  and  intelligence.” 

1 See  p.  72.  2 Disraeli : Coningsby,  chap.  v. 

3 See  p.  124.  « See  p.  159.  6 See  p.  42. 

« See  pp.  44,  72.  7 See  p.  115.  See  also  p.  187. 


Chap.  Ill  ] 


ARRANGEMENT  OF  WORDS. 


161 


A writer  who  has  mastered  the  foregoing  rules  will 
find  that  they  will  aid  him  to  secure  Unity  in  paragraphs 
and  in  the  still  longer  divisions  of  a composition,  as  well 
as  in  sentences ; but  he  cannot  expect  to  acquire  this 
difficult  excellence  in  large  measure,  without  making 
himself  familiar  with  authors  distinguished  for  method, 
and  giving  himself  much  practice  in  composition  con- 
ducted with  special  reference  to  arrangement. 


1G2 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Book  II. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FUNDAMENTAL  PRINCIPLES. 

Thus  we  have  seen  that  to  the  efficiency  of  communi- 
inie  four  cation  by  language  four  things  are  necessary : 
of'good  Grammatical  Purity  (or  Correctness), — the 

composition.  j.  . . . . , , , . . . 

use  ot ‘those  expressions,  and  those  only,  which 
are  accepted  by  the  consentient  practice  of  the  speakers 
or  writers  of  the  present  time  who  enjoy  the  best  national 
reputation;  Clearness  (or  Perspicuity),  — the  quality 
in  style  by  which  the  meaning  is  conveyed  to  the  person 
addressed,  in  appropriate  words,  as  few  as  are  com- 
patible with  completeness  of  statement,  and  arranged 
as  nearly  in  the  order  of  the  thought  as  the  language 
permits;  Force,  — the  quality  that  selects  the  most 
effective  expressions  and  arranges  them  in  the  most 
effective  manner;  and  Elegance  (or  Beauty),  — con- 
formity to  good  taste. 

While  engaged  in  the  act  of  composition,  a writer 
should  think  little  about  Force,  and  not  at  all  about 
positive  Elegance;  but  he  should  constantly  aim  to 
make  himself  intelligible,  sure  that  if  he  does  not  suc- 
ceed in  doing  this,  other  merits  will  be  of  little  avail, 
and  that  if  he  does  succeed,  other  merits  will  be  likely 
to  come  unsought.  To  this  end,  he  should  obtain  as 
extensive  a command  of  language  as  possible. 

‘ ‘ When  discoursing  in  public,  let  your  choice  of  words  he  neither 
tainted  with  indelicacy,  nor  tarnished  with  affectation.  Let  your 
word  bear  the  express  image  of  your  thought,  and  transmit  it  com- 


Chap.  IV.] 


FUNDAMENTAL  ITUNCIPLES. 


163 


plete  to  your  hearer’s  mind.  You  need  then  give  yourself  very 
little  concern  to  inquire  for  the  parish  register  of  its  nativity. 
AV'hether  new  or  old,  whether  of  Saxon  or  of  Grecian  parentage,  it 
will  perform  its  duties  to  your  satisfaction,  without  at  all  impaii- 
ing  your  reputation  for  purity  of  speech.”  i 

He  should  seek  to  conform  to  Swift’s  definition  of  a 
good  style : “ Proper  words  in  proper  places ; ” and 
to  the  rules  hy  which  “ any  one,”  as  Locke  says,  “ may 
preserve  himself  from  the  confines  and  suspicion  of 
jargon  ” : — 

“ My  lord,  the  new  w'ay  of  ideas,  and  the  old  way  of  speaking 
intelligibly,  was  always,  and  ever  will  be,  the  same.  And  if  I may 
take  the  liberty  to  declare  my  sense  of  it,  herein  it  consists:  (1) 
That  a man  use  no  words  but  such  as  he  makes  the  signs  of  certain 
determined  objects  of  his  mind  in  thinking,  which  he  can  make 
known  to  another.  (2)  Next  that  he  use  the  same  w'ord  steadily 
for  the  sign  of  the  same  immediate  object  of  his  mind  in  thinking. 
(3)  That  he  join  those  words  together  in  propositions,  accoi’ding 
to  the  grammatical  rules  of  that  language  he  speaks  in.  (4)  That 
he  unite  those  sentences  in  a coherent  discoiu'se.”  ^ 

The  question  remains  whether,  under  the  general 
considerations  that  have  been  suggested  and  the  rules 
that  have  been  laid  down,  any  fundamental  principle 
exists. 

Herbert  Spencer  maintains  that  such  a principle  is  to 
be  found  in  what  he  calls  “economy  of  atten-  spencer’s 
tion.”  He  thinks  that  the  sufficient  reason  theory, 
for  choosing  the  best  words  for  the  purpose  in  hand 
and  arranging  them  in  the  best  order  is,  that  the  reader’s 
attention,  being  thus  subjected  to  the  least  possible 
strain  from  the  machinery  of  language,  can  be  more 
closely  given  to  the  thought;  that,  therefore,  the  best 

1 .T.  Q.  Adams:  Lectarcs  on  Pdietoric  and  Oratory,  Icct.  xxv.  p.  irrO. 

2 Locke:  Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  4<30;  Second  Kepiv  to  tlie  bishop  of  Worcester. 

8 


1G4 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS. 


[Rooic  11. 


writer  is  he  who,  other  things  being  equal,  draws  least 
upon  a reader’s  mental  powers  and  sensibilities. 

This  theory  is  very  well  as  far  as  it  goes  ; b\it  it  does 
jfs  not  lay  sufficient  stress  upon  the  fact  that 
insufficiency.  ^ reader’s  mental  power  is  not  a constant 
quantity ; that,  therefore,  a writer  who  increases  this 
power  by  stimulating  mental  action  arrives,  by  a differ- 
ent road,  at  the  same  destination  which  is  reached  by 
another  writer  who  by  a wise  economy  prevents  unnec- 
essary waste.  The  superiority  of  the  metaphor  to  the 
simile,^  and  of  a suggestive  to  an  “ exhaustive  ” style,^ 
lies,  as  has  been  shown,  in  each  case  — partly,  at  least 
— in  the  stimulating  power  of  the  former ; and  the 
same  may  be  said  of  the  superiority  of  “ words  that 
burn  ” over  those  of  the  cold  understanding,  and  of  an 
orderly  over  a loose  arrangement. 

The  greatest  genius  of  all  is,  of  course,  he  who 
economizes  a reader’s  attention  at  the  same  time  that 
he  stimulates  his  energies:  Dante,  for  instance,  “whose 
verse  holds  itself  erect  by  the  mere  force  of  the  sub- 
stantive and  verb,  without  the  help  of  a single  epithet,”  ^ 
but  who  “ knew  how  to  spend  as  well  as  to  spare.  . . . 
Ills  simile  of  the  doves  (Inferno,  v.  82  et  seq.'),  per- 
haps the  most  exquisite  in  all  poetry,  quite  oversteps 
Rivarol’s  narrow  limit  of  substantive  and  verb.”  ^ 

Another  principle  which  underlies  all  rhetorical  rules 
Unity  with  been  hinted  more  than  once  in 

Variety.  foregoing  pages  the  principle  of  all 

art,  — the  principle  of  Unity  in  design  conjoined  with 
manifold  Variety  in  methods. 

i See  p.  91.  2 See  pp.  125,  127. 

3 Rivarol,  quoted  by  J.  E.  Lowell : Among  my  Books  (Second  Series),  p.  38. 

4 Lowell : Ibid.,  p.  40. 

® Se'e  pp.  Ill,  157,  159.  See  also  p.  186 


Chap.  IV.] 


FUNDAMENTAL  PRINCIPLES. 


165 


“ A great  author  is  not  one  who  merely  has  a copia  verborum, 
whether  in  prose  or  verse,  and  can,  as  it  were,  turn  on  at  his  will 
any  number  of  splendid  j^hrases  and  swelling  sentences ; but  he  is 
one  wdio  has  something  to  say  and  knows  how  to  say  it.  . . . lie 
writes  passionately,  because  he  feels  keenly;  forcibly,  because  he 
conceives  vividly ; he  sees  too  clearly  to  be  vague ; he  is  too  serious 
to  be  otiose;  he  can  analyze  his  subject,  and  therefore  he  is  rich; 
he  embraces  it  as  a whole  and  in  its  parts,  and  therefore  he  is  con- 
sistent; he  has  a firm  hold  of  it,  and  therefoi'e  he  is  luminous. 
When  his  imagination  wells  up,  it  overflows  in  ornament;  when 
his  heart  is  touched,  it  thrills  along  his  verse.  He  always  has 
the  right  word  for  the  right  idea,  and  never  a word  too  much.  If 
he  is  brief,  it  is  because  few  words  suffice ; if  he  is  lavish  of  them, 
still  each  word  has  its  mark,  and  aids,  not  embarrasses,  the  vigorous 
march  of  his  elocution.”  ^ 

Not  that  a writer  should  aim  to  be  the  “ perfectly 
endowed  man”  of  whom  Herbert  Spencer^  dreams. 
“ To  be  specific  in  style,”  says  Spencer,  “ is  to  be  poor 
in  speech ; ” but  to  be  in  no  sense  and  in  no  degree 
“ specific  in  style  ” is  to  be  “ faultily  faultless,”  to  be 
devoid  of  that  individuality  which  is  at  once  the  spring 
and  the  charm  of  genius.  Emerson  teaches  a sounder 
doctrine  in  giving  the  “ essential  caution  to  young 
writers  that  they  shall  not  in  their  discourse  leave  out- 
the  one  thing  which  the  discourse  was  written  to  say,” 
but  shall  each  “ obey  ” his  “ native  bias.”  “ To  each 
his  own  method,  style,  wit,  eloquence.”  ^ 

“ In  each  rank  of  fruits,  as  in  each  rank  of  masters,  one  is 
endowed  with  one  virtue,  and  another  with  another;  their  gloiy 
is  their  dissimilarity,  and  they  who  propose  to  themselves  in  the 
training  of  an  artist  that  he  should  unite  the  coloring  of  Tintoret, 
the  finish  of  Albert  Durer,  and  the  tenderness  of  Correggio,  are  no 
wiser  than  a horticulturist  would  be,  who  made  it  the  object  of  his 

1 J.  II.  Newman:  Lectures  on  University  Subjects,  p.  62. 

* Philosophy  of  Style. 

3 Letters  and  Social  Aims,  pp.  274-277 ; Greatness. 


166 


CHOICE  AND  USE  OF  WORDS.  [Book  II. 


labor  to  produce  a fruit  which  should  unite  in  itself  the  luscious- 
iiess  of  the  grape,  the  crispness  of  the  nut,  and  the  fragrance  of 
tlie  pine.”  ^ 

Shakspere  most  nearly  approaches  Spencer’s  ideal, 
because  he  speaks  through  many  voices ; but  even  in 
him,  when  he  ceases  to  be  lago  or  Juliet,  “ a specific 
style  ” can  be  traced.  The  fact,  however,  that  Ids  indi- 
viduality so  often  eludes  discovery  renders  him  to  many 
persons  a book  rather  than  a man. 

The  Unity  which  every  writer  should  seek  is  not  the 
unity  of  perfection,  but  is  that  which  comes  from  the 
conception  of  a discourse  as  a whole,  and  from  the  har- 
monious arrangement  of  the  parts  in  conformity  with 
that  conception  : the  only  Variety  which  can  be  of  avail 
is  that  which  naturally  presents  itself.  A composition 
should  be  “ a body,  not  a mere  collection  of  members,”  ^ 
but  it  should  be  a living  body.  Its  life  must  come, 
partly  from  the  natural  qualities  of  the  writer,  and 
partly  from  his  acquired  resources,  whether  of  matter 
or  of  language  — resources  which  it  is  not  the  province 
of  Rhetoric  to  supply. 

1 Kuskin : Modem  Painters,  vol.  iii.  part  iv.  p.  43  (American  Edition). 

2 Quintilian : Inst.  Orator,  vii.  x.  xvii. 


Chap.  I.] 


MOVEMENT. 


167 


PAKT  II. 

KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 


BOOK  I. 

NARRATION  AND  DESCRIPTION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MOVEMENT. 

The  essentials  of  a good  narrative,  whether  of  real 
or  of  fictitious  events,  are  movement  and  method, — the 
life  and  the  logic  of  discourse.  If  the  action  halts,  the 
attention  halts  with  it ; if  the  action  is  confused  or 
self-repeating,  the  attention  is  soon  fatigued. 

The  arts  of  communication  by  colors  or  by  marble 
differ  from  the  art  of  communication  by  language,  in 
that  they  can  directly  represent  stationary  objects,  hut 
cannot  represent  action.  Painting  and  sculpture,  as 
thev  address  the  eye  only,  are  subject  to 

,“  ...  Limitations  of 

the  limitations  to  which  the  eye  is  subject,  painting  ami 

. . , T sculpture. 

Hence,  painting  and  sculpture  can  represent 
only  a single  moment  of  time,  since  the  eye  cannot 
receive  the  impressions  of  two  successive  moments 
at  once ; but  they  may  represent  a wide  extent  of 
space,  or  a scene  comprising  numerous  details,  since 
tlie  eye  can  in  a moment  receive  an  impression  of 
a whole  that  is  composed  of  many  widely  different 
parts. 


168 


NAERATION  AND  DESCRIPTION. 


[Book  I. 


They  should,  moreover,  choose  the  moment  which 
tells  most  about  the  past  and  the  future  of  the  object 
represented.  Their  Lady  Macbeth  will  be  shown  in 
the  sleep-walking  scene,  in  which  she  lives  over  again, 
not  only  the  murder,  but  the  motive  that  led  to  it  and 
the  remorse  that  follows  it ; their  Medea  will  be  shown 
as  she  appears  during  the  struggle  between  her  mater- 
nal love  and  her  murderous  impulses  ; their  Ajax,  sit- 
ting among  the  slaughtered  herds  whose  destruction 
he  now  regrets  ; their  Laocoon,  while  his  pain  is  still 
endurable  ; their  Dying  Gladiator,  at  the  moment  Avhen 
with  the  pangs  of  death  mingle  the  memories  of  his 
“young  barbarians  at  play.” 

The  actions  which  painting  and  sculpture  can  thus 
suggest  to  the  imagination,  language  can  fully  recount. 
It  can  tell  the  whole  story  of  Lady  Macbeth,  hledea, 
Ajax,  Laocoon,  the  Gladiator.  No  gallery  of  pictures, 
however  large,  can  tell  a story  as  words  can  ; for,  while 
each  picture  is  distinct  from  every  other  and  represents 
an  isolated  moment,  each  word  is  part  of  a continuously 
flowing  current. 

Language,  on  the  other  hand,  cannot,  as  painting 
Limitations  sculpture  can,  bring  a figure  or  a scene 
of  language,  j^gfore  the  eye.  With  the  aid  of  the  imagi- 
nation, it  can  recall  to  the  memory  things  that  the  eye 
has  seen ; but  no  “ word-painter  ” can  give  an  idea  of 
the  sea  or  a mountain,  of  a color  or  a flower,  to  one 
who  has  never  seen  it : there  is  no  such  thing  as  a 
“ poetical  picture.” 

In  looking  at  a real  or  a painted  scene,  at  a real  or  a 
sculptured  person,  we  are  conscious  of  a single  impres- 
sion upon  the  eye,  and,  through  the  eye,  upon  the 
mind.  Some  metaphysicians  maintain  that  we  see  the 


Chap.  I.] 


MOVEMENT. 


169 


parts  of  an  object,  one  by  one,  but  that  the  process  of 
putting  them  together  is  too  rapid  to  be  perceived; 
others  hold  that  we  immediately  perceive  a whole : 
but  all  are  agreed  that  the  first  impression  consciously 
received  by  an  observer  is  of  a whole,  and  that  the 
analysis  by  which  knowledge  of  the  parts  may  be 
obtained  is  a subsequent  process. 

Now,  the  only  way  in  which  words  can  give  an 
impression  of  a whole  is  by  the  enumeration  of  the 
parts.  To  make  a whole,  these  parts  must  be  labori- 
ously put  together,  with  the  risk  that  the  part  first 
spoken  of  will  be  forgotten  before  the  last  part  is 
reached,  and  with  the  certainty  that  complete  unity 
cannot  be  secured.  Words  succeed  each  other  in  time, 
as  colors  and  outlines  lie  side  by  side  in  space  ; the 
' former  are,  therefore,  especially  fitted  to  represent  ac- 
tion, the  latter  to  represent  bodies.  A writer  can  only 
suggest  to  the  imagination  scenes  or  persons  that  a 
painter  can  depict  to  the  eye,  as  a painter  can  only 
suggest  a story  that  a writer  can  fully  tell.  Each  is 
strongest  at  the  other’s  weakest  point. 

If  these  principles  ^ are  correct,  they  lead  to  practical 
conclusions  which  are  of  great  importance  to  the  writer 
who  aims  to  affect  the  imagination  by  a narrative,  to 
enlist  the  sympathies,  or  merely  to  hold  the  attention. 

Where  words  serve  no  higher  purpose  than  they  do 
in  an  inventory,  a catalos^ue,  or  a passport,  in 

tr-  • „ , . . 1 Inventories. 

Virgd  s enumeration  ot  the  points  ot  a good 
cow,  or  Shakspere's  enumeration  of  the  points  of  a good 
horse, — that  is,  where  they  serve  only  as  means  of  iden- 
tifying objects  that  are  or  are  to  be  under  the  eye,  — ■ 

1 For  a fuller  exposition  of  them,  see  Lessing:  The  I.aocoiin,  sects,  xv.  xvi. 
et  seg. 


170 


NARRATION  AND  DESCRIPTION. 


IBook  1 


they  give  useful  information  indeed,  but  pretend  to  no 
higher  excellence.  Their  utility  consists,  not  in  their 
combination  so  as  to  make  a pictorial  whole,  a work  of 
art,  but  in  their  faithfulness  to  a didactic  purpose,  — a 
purpose  that  could,  in  most  cases,  be  more  effectually 
fulfilled  in  some  other  Avay  than  by  words  ; as,  for  in- 
stance, by  the  substitution  of  a photograph  for  the 
personal  description  in  a passport. 

Yet  the  only  difference  betAveen  tlie  inventory,  or 
the  passport,  and  many  much-praised  descriptions  lies 
in  the  fact  that  the  latter  serve  no  useful  end.  They 
are  skipped  by  the  majority  of  readers,  and  are  felt  by 
many  even  of  their  admirers  to  be  interruptions  of  the 
narrative. 

“It  must  be  some  strong  motive  (as,  for  instance,  that  the 
description  Avas  necessary  to  the  intelligibility  of  the  tale)  which 
could  induce  me  to  describe  in  a number  of  verses  what  a draughts- 
man  could  present  to  the  eye  with  incomparably  greater  satisfac- 
tion by  half-a-dozen  strobes  of  his  pencil,  or  the  painter  with  as 
many  touches  of  his  brush.  Such  descriptions  too  often  occasion 
in  the  mind  of  a reader  who  is  determined  to  understand  his  author 
a feeling  of  labor,  not  veiy  dissimilar  to  that  Avith  which  he  would 
construct  a diagram,  line  by  line,  for  a long  geometrical  proposi- 
tion. It  seems  to  be  like  taking  the  pieces  of  a dissected  map  out 
of  its  box.  We  first  look  at  one  part  and  then  at  another,  then 
join  and  doA^e-tail  them;  and  when  the  successive  acts  of  attention 
have  been  completed,  there  is  a retrogressive  effort  of  mind  to 
behold  it  as  a whole.  The  poet  should  paint  to  the  imagination, 
not  to  the  fancy;  and  I know  no  happier  case  to  exemplify  the 
distinction  between  these  two  faculties.  IMaster-pieces  of  the  foi-mer 
mode  of  poetic  painting  abound  in  the  Avritings  of  Milton.  For 
example : — 

“ ‘ The  fig-tree : not  that  kind  for  fruit  renown’d, 

But  such  as  at  this  day,  to  Indians  known. 

In  Malabar  or  Decan  spreads  her  arms 
Branching  so  broad  and  long,  that  in  the  ground 
The  bended  twigs  take  root,  and  daughters  grow 


Chap.  I.] 


MOVEMENT. 


171 


Above  the  mother-tree,  a pillar'd  shade 

Ilhjh  over-arch'd,  ami  echoing  walks  between  : 

There  oft  the  Indian  herdsman,  shunniny  heat, 

Shelters  in  cool,  and  tends  his  pasturing  herds 
At  loop-holes  cut  through  thickest  shade.'  i 

“ This  is  creation  rather  than  painting;  or,  if  painting,  yet  such, 
and  with  such  co-presence  of  the  whole  picture  flashed  at  once 
iqxni  the  eye,  as  the  sun  paints  in  a camera  obscura.  But  the 
poet  must  likewise  understand  and  command  what  Bacon  calls  the 
vestigia  communia  of  the  senses,  the  latency  of  all  in  each;  and 
more  especially,  as  by  a magical  penna  duplex,  the  excitement  of 
vision  by  sound  and  the  exponents  of  sound.  Thus,  ‘ The  echo- 
ing walks  between,’  may  be  almost  said  to  reverse  the  fable  in 
tradition  of  the  head  of  Memnon,  in  the  Egyptian  statue.  Such 
may  be  deservedly  entitled  the  creative  words  in  the  w'orld  of 
imagination.”  ^ 

To  produce  illusion,  — that  is,  to  make  the  reader 
forget  the  language  in  the  meaning,  the  ver-  Howtopro- 
bal  sign  in  the  thing  signified,  — words  iuusion. 
should  be  used  in  the  way  in  which  they  are  most 
efficient,  the  way  in  which  sound  most  closely  corre- 
sponds to  sense,  the  succession  of  characters  on  the 
page  to  the  succession  of  events  in  the  story.  The 
attempt  to  put  into  words  what  can  only  be  painted 
should  be  abandoned.  Frankly  recognizing  the  limita- 
tions of  his  art,  a writer  should  not  attempt  to  go  beyond 
them,  but  should  try  to  reach  the  imagination  or  the 
feelings  by  means  peculiar  to  his  art. 

Such  a writer  will,  then,  never  undertake  to  describe 
in  detail  places  or  persons  in  their  outward  aspect ; 
but  he  will  manage,  in  the  course  of  his  narrative, 
(1)  to  give  such  glimpses  of  them  as  one 
who  runs  may  have  ; or  (2)  to  convey  ideas 
about  them  tluough  the  medium  of  the  impressions 

1 Paradise  Lost,  book  ix.  lines  1100-1109. 

2 Coleridge : Biographia  Literaria,  chap.  xxii. 

8* 


172 


NARRATION  AND  DESCRIPTION. 


[Book  I. 


they  make  or  the  effect  they  produce;  or  (3),  if  it  is 
necessary  to  keep  an  object  long  before  the  mind,  to 
relate  a story  about  it,  — a story  Avhich  shall  gradually, 
though  incidentally,  tell  the  reader  all  that  words  can 
tell  him. 

I.  A single  well-chosen  word,  which  fixes  the  atten- 
tion upon  some  characteristic  quality  of  an  object,  is 
far  preferable  to  a number  of  words,  because  it  gives  a 
far  more  vivid  impression  of  the  object  as  a whole.  If 
several  adjectives  are  used,  still  the  impression  mainly 
comes  from  one.  For  example  : 

“ There  was  in  the  court  a peculiar  silence  somehow;  and  the 
scene  remained  long  in  Esmond’s  memory : — the  sky  bright  over- 
head; the  buttresses  of  the  building  and  the  sun-dial  casting 
shadow  over  the  gilt  memento  mori  inscribed  miderneath;  the  two 
dogs,  a black  gi-eyhound  and  a spaniel  nearly  white,  the  one  with 
his  face  up  to  the  sun,  and  the  other  snuffing  amongst  the  grass 
and  stones,  and  my  lord  leaning  over  the  fomrtain,  which  was 
bubbling  audibly.”  ^ 

“ How  well  all  things  were  remembered!  The  ancient  towers 
and  gables  of  the  hall  dai'kling  against  the  east,  the  pui’ple  shadows 
on  the  green  slopes,  the  quaint  devices  and  carvings  of  the  dial, 
the  forest-crowned  heights,  the  fair,  yellow  plain  cheerful  with 
crops  and  corn,  the  shining  river  rolling  through  it  towards  the 
pearly  hills  beyond,  — all  these  were  before  us,  along  with  a thou- 
sand beautiful  memories  of  our  youth,  beautiful  and  sad,  but  as 
real  and  vivid  in  our  minds  as  that  fair  and  always-remembered 
scene  our  eyes  beheld  once  more.  ” 1 

“ And  of  Paris  I can  tell  you  no  more  my  dear  than  that  it ’s 
town  and  country  both  in  one,  and  carved  stone  and  long  streets 
of  high  houses  and  gardens  and  fountains  and  statues  and  trees 
and  gold,  and  immensely  big  soldiers  and  immensely  little  soldiers, 
and  the  pleasantest  nurses  with  the  whitest  caps  a-playing  at  skip- 
ping-rope with  the  bunchiest  babies  in  the  flattest  caps,  and  clean 

1 Thackeray : History  of  Henry  Esmond,  book  i.  chap.  xiv. ; book  iii. 
chap.  viL 


Chap.  I.j 


MOVEMENT. 


173 


table-cloths  spread  every  where  for  dinner  and  people  sitting  out 
of  doors  smoking  and  sipping  all  day  long  and  little  plays  being 
acted  in  the  open  air  for  little  people,  and  every  shop  a complete 
and  elegant  I'oom,  and  every  body  seeming  to  play  at  every  thing 
in  this  world.  And  as  to  the  sparkling  lights,  my  dear,  after  dark, 
glittering  high  up  and  low  down  and  on  before  and  on  behind  and 
all  round,  and  the  crowd  of  theatres  and  the  crowd  of  people  and 
the  crowd  of  all  sorts,  it ’s  pure  ei^chantment.  ...  So  at  length 
and  at  last,  my  dear,  we  come  to  Sens,  a pretty  little  town  with  a 
great  two-towered  cathedral,  and  the  rooks  flying  in  and  out  of  the 
loop-holes,  and  another  tower  a-top  of  one  of  the  towers  like  a sort 
of  a stone  pulpit.  . . . The  pleasantest  situated  inn,  my  dear! 
night  under  the  two  towers,  with  their  shadows  a changing  upon 
it  all  day  like  a kind  of  a sun-dial,  and  country  people  driving 
in  and  out  of  the  court-yard  in  carts  and  hooded  cabriolets  and 
such  like,  and  a market  outside  in  front  of  the  cathedral,  and  all 
so  quaint  and  like  a picter.”  i 

“ His  study-room  in  this  house  was  perhaps  mainly  the  drawing- 
room; looking  out  safe,  over  the  little  dingy  grass-plot  in  front, 
and  the  quiet  little  row  of  houses  opposite,  wdth  the  huge  dust- 
whirl  of  Oxford  Street  and  London  far  enough  ahead  of  you  as 
back-ground, — as  back-curtain,  blotting  out  only  half  your  blue 
hemisphere  with  dust  and  smoke.  On  the  right,  you  had  the  con- 
tinuous growl  of  the  Uxbridge  Road  and  its  wheels,  coming  as 
lullaby,  not  interruption.  Leftwai-d  and  rearward,  after  some  thin 
belt  of  houses,  lay  mere  country;  bright,  sweeping,  green  expanses, 
crowned  by  pleasant  Hampstead,  pleasant  Harrow,  with  their  rustic 
steeples  rising  against  the  sky.”  * 

“ It  was  an  exquisite  January  morning  in  which  there  was  no 
threat  of  rain,  but  a grey  sky  making  the  calmest  back-ground  for 
the  charms  of  a mild  winter  scene: — the  grassy  borders  of  the 
lanes,  the  hedge-rows  sprinkled  with  red  berries  and  haunted  with 
low  twitterings,  the  purple  bareness  of  the  elms,  the  rich  bi'own  of 
the  furrows.”  ® 

” One  moment  had  been  burned  into  his  life  as  its  chief  epoch, 
— a moment  full  of  July  sunshine  and  large  pink  roses  shedding 

1 Pickens:  Mrs.  Lirriper’s  Legacy. 

2 Carlyle : Life  of  John  Sterling,  part  ii.  chap.  iii. 

® George  Eliot:  Daniel  Deronda,  book  i.  chap.  vii. 


174 


NARRATION  AND  DESCRIPTION. 


[Book  I. 


tlieir  last  petals  on  a grassy  court  enclosed  on  three  sides  by  a 
Gothic  cloister.  Imagine  him  in  such  a scene:  a boy  of  thirteen, 
stretched  prone  on  the  grass  where  it  was  in  shadow,  his  curly  head 
propped  on  his  arms  over  a book,  while  his  tutor,  also  reading,  sat 
on  a camp-stool  under  shelter.  ’ ’ i 

“ It  was  occasionally  recalled  that  she  had  been  the  heiress  of  a 
fortune  gained  by  some  moist  or  dry  business  in  the  city,  in  order 
fully  to  account  for  her  having  a squat  figure,  a harsh,  parrot-like 
voice,  and  a systematically  high  head-dress.”  ^ 

“ So  much  describes  the  stuffy  little  room  — 

Vulgar,  flat,  smooth  respectability  : 

Not  so  the  burst  of  landscape  surging  in. 

Sunrise  and  all,  as  he  who  of  the  pair 
Is,  plain  enough,  the  younger  personage 
Draws  sharp  the  shrieking  curtain,  sends  aloft 
The  sash,  spreads  wide  and  fastens  back  to  wall 
Shutter  and  shutter,  shows  you  England’s  best. 

He  leans  into  a living  glory -bath 

Of  air  and  light,  where  seems  to  float  and  move 

The  wooded,  watered  country,  hill  and  dale 

And  steel-bright  thread  of  stream,  a-smoke  with  mist, 

A-sparkle  with  May  morning,  diamond  drift 
O’  the  sun-touched  dew.”  3 

II.  Tlie  writer  who  pursues  the  second  method  does 
not  attempt  to  represent  an  object,  but  leaves  the  reader 
to  infer  causes  from  effects.  This  is  the  best  way  of 
giving  an  impression  of  great  personal  beauty ; for 
beauty,  being  the  result  of  a harmonious  union  of  parts, 
is  peculiarly  difficult  to  represent  by  language,  and 
must  therefore  be  shown  indirectly. 

IMadame  Recamier’s  remark  about  herself  is  worth  pages  of  de- 
scription. “ I know,”  said  she,  “ that  I am  no  longer  beautiful,  for 
the  chimney-sweeps  have  given  up  stopping  work  to  look  at  me.” 

Thackeray’s  comparison  of  Beatrix  Esmond  to  a leopard,  and 
George  Eliot’s  of  Gwendolen  to  a serpent,  are  what  we  remember 
best  about  Beatrix  and  Gwendolen. 

^ George  Eliot : Daniel  Deronda,  book  ii.  chap.  xvi. 

2 Ibid.,  book  i.  chap.  v.  See  also  the  description  of  Grandcourt;  book  ii. 
chap.  xi.  * Browning:  The  Inn  Album. 


CUAP.  I.] 


MOVEMENT. 


175 


A striking  instance  of  this  is  the  well-known  passage  in  Homer, 
in  which  he  speaks  of  the  effect  of  the  appearance  of  Helen  upon 
the  old  men  of  Troy:  — 


“ Instantly 

She  left  her  chamber,  robed  and  veiled  in  white, 

And  shedding  tender  tears  ; yet  not  alone, 

For  with  her  went  two  maidens,  — yEthra,  child 
Of  Pitheus,  and  the  large-eyed  Clymene. 

Straight  to  the  Scaean  gates  they  walked,  by  which 
PanthoUs,  Priam,  and  Thymoetes  sat, 

Lampus  and  Clytius,  Ilicetaon  sprung 
From  Mars,  Antenor  and  Ucalegon, 

Two  sages,  — elders  of  the  people  all. 

Beside  the  gates  they  sat,  unapt,  through  age. 

For  tasks  of  war,  but  men  of  fluent  speech. 

Like  the  cicadas  that  within  the  wood 
Sit  on  the  trees  and  utter  delicate  sounds. 

Such  were  the  nobles  of  the  Trojan  race 
Who  sat  upon  the  tower.  But  when  they  marked 
The  approach  of  Helen,  to  each  other  thus 
With  winged  words,  but  in  low  tones,  they  said : — 

‘ Small  blame  is  theirs,  if  both  the  Trojan  knights 
And  brazen-mailed  Achaians  have  endured 
So  long  so  many  evils  for  the  sake 
Of  that  one  woman.  She  is  wholly  like 
In  feature  to  the  deathless  goddesses. 

So  be  it : let  her,  peerless  as  she  is. 

Return  on  board  the  fleet,  nor  staj’  to  bring 
Disaster  upon  us  and  all  our  race.’ 

So  spake  the  elders.”  1 


“ With  every  deduction,  Dante  remains  the  first  of  descriptive  as 
well  as  moral  poets.  His  verse  is  as  various  as  the  feeling  it  con- 
veys; now  it  has  the  terseness  and  edge  of  steel,  and  now  palpitates 
vvith  iridescent  softness  like  the  breast  of  a dove.  In  vividness  he 
is  without  a rival.  He  drags  back  by  its  tangled  locks  the  unwill- 
ing head  of  some  petty  traitor  of  an  Italian  provincial  town,  lets 
the  fire  glare  on  the  .sullen  face  for  a moment,  and  it  sears  itself 
into  the  memory  for  ever.  He  shows  us  an  angel  glowing  with  that 
love  of  God  which  makes  him  a star  even  amid  the  glory  of  heaven, 
and  the  holy  shape  keeps  lifelong  watch  in  our  fantasy,  constant 
as  a sentinel.  . . . His  suggestions  of  individuality,  too,  from  atti- 


1 The  Iliad,  book  iii.  lines  178-203;  Bryant’s  Translation. 


176 


NAHRATION  AND  DESCRIPTION. 


[Book  I. 


tilde  or  speech,  — as  in  Farinata,  Sordello,  or  Pia,  — give  in  a hint 
what  is  worth  acres  of  so-called  character-painting.  In  straight- 
forward pathos,  the  single  and  sufficient  thrust  of  phrase,  he  has 
no  competitor.  ’ ’ ^ 

III.  The  third  method  is  either  to  give  glimpses 
of  a whole  from  one  point  of  view  after  another,  or 
to  bring  part  after  part  before  the  eye,  as  the  action 
goes  on. 

A famous  instance  is  Homer’s  account  of  Achilles’s  shield. 
Instead  of  suspending  the  narrative  while  describing  the  details 
of  the  ornameutation,  Homer  represents  Vulcan  in  the  act  of  mak- 
ing the  shield.  As  part  after  part  springs  into  being,  the  poet 
brings  it  before  us,  — brings  not  only  what  the  eye  would  see,  but 
also  what  the  imagination  would  suggest.  He  makes  no  attempt  to 
paint  a picture  with  words,  but  there  is  constant  action ; the  manu- 
facture of  the  shield  as  a whole  is  one  story,  and  each  part  of  the 
work  is  made  to  tell  a separate  story.  If  we  had  the  shield  before 
our  eyes,  we  should  still  enjoy  Homer,  for  we  should  still  find  more 
in  him  than  was  on  the  shield. 

“ There  placed  he  two  fair  cities  full  of  men. 

In  one  were  marriages  and  feasts ; they  led 
The  brides  with  flaming  torches  from  their  bowers 
Along  the  streets,  with  many  a nuptial  song. 

There  the  young  dancers  whirled,  and  flutes  and  lyres 
Gave  forth  their  sounds,  and  women  at  the  doors 
Stood  and  admired.  Meanwhile  a multitude 
Was  in  the  forum,  where  a strife  went  on,  — 

Two  men  contending  for  a fine,  the  price 
Of  one  who  had  been  slain.  Before  the  crowd 
One  claimed  that  he  had  paid  the  fine,  and  one 
Denied  that  aught  had  been  received,  and  both 
Called  for  the  sentence  which  should  end  the  strife. 

The  people  clamored  for  both  sides,  for  both 
Had  eager  friends ; the  heralds  held  the  crowd 
In  check;  the  elders,  upon  polished  stones. 

Sat  in  a sacred  circle.  Each  one  took. 

In  turn,  a herald' s sceptre  in  his  hand. 

And,  rising,  gave  his  sentence.  In  the  midst 


1 Lowell:  Among  my  Books  (Second  Series),  pp.  120,  121;  Dante. 


Chap.  I ] 


MOVEMENT. 


177 


Two  talents  lay  in  gold,  to  be  the  meed 
Of  him  whose  juster  judgment  should  prevail. 

Around  the  other  city  sat  two  hosts 
In  shining  armor,  bent  to  lay  it  waste. 

Unless  the  dwellers  would  divide  their  wealth,  — 

All  that  their  pleasant  homes  contained,  — and  yield 
The  assailants  half.  As  yet  the  citizens 
Had  not  complied,  but  secretly  had  planned 
An  ambush.  Their  beloved  wiv'es  meanwhile. 

And  their  young  children,  stood  and  watched  the  walls, 

AVith  aged  men  among  them,  while  the  youths 
Marched  on,  with  Jlars  and  Pallas  at  their  head. 

Both  wrought  in  gold,  with  golden  garments  on. 

Stately  and  large  in  form,  and  over  all 
Conspicuous,  in  bright  armor,  as  became 
The  gods ; the  rest  were  of  an  humbler  size. 

And  when  they  reached  the  spot  where  they  should  lie 

In  ambush,  by  a river’s  side,  a place 

For  watering  herds,  they  sat  them  down,  all  armed 

In  shining  brass.  Apart  from  all  the  rest 

They  placed  two  sentries,  on  the  watch  to  spy 

The  approach  of  sheep  and  horned  kine.  Soon  came 

The  herds  in  sight;  two  shepherds  walked  with  them, 

Who,  all  unweeting  of  the  evil  nigh. 

Solaced  their  task  with  music  from  their  reeds. 

The  warriors  saw  and  rushed  on  them,  and  took 
And  drave  away  large  prey  of  beeves,  and  flocks 
Of  fair  white  sheep,  whose  keepers  they  had  slain. 

AVhen  the  besiegers  in  their  council  heard 
The  sound  of  tumult  at  the  watering-place. 

They  sprang  upon  their  nimble-footed  steeds, 

And  overtook  the  pillagers.  Both  bands 
Arrayed  their  ranks  and  fought  beside  the  stream, 

And  smote  each  other.  There  did  Discord  rage. 

And  Tumult,  and  the  Great  Destroyer,  Fate. 

One  wounded  warrior  she  had  seized  alive. 

And  one  unwounded  yet,  and  through  the  field 
Dragged  by  the  foot  another,  dead.  Her  robe 
AVas  reddened  o’er  the  shoulders  with  the  blood 
From  human  veins.  Like  living  men  they  ranged 
The  battle-field,  and  dragged  by  turns  the  slain.”  1 

A similar  device  is  employed  by  Anacreon,  -when  he  represents 
an  artist  in  the  act  of  painting  a beautiful  woman ; by  Schiller,  in 

1 The  Iliad,  book  xviii.  lines  615-674;  Brj'ant’s  Translation. 


178  NARRATION  AND  DESCRIPTION.  [Book  I. 

the  Song  of  the  Bell;  by  Longfellow,  in  the  Building  of  the  Ship; 
and  by  Scott,  in  the  following  passage:  — 

“ Far  up  the  lengthen’d  lake  ■were  spied 
Four  darkening  specks  upon  the  tide. 

That,  slow  enlarging  on  the  \'iew. 

Four  mann’d  and  masted  barges  grew, 

And,  bearing  downwards  from  Glengyle, 

Steer’d  full  upon  the  lonely  isle; 

The  point  of  Brianchoil  they  pass’d. 

And,  to  the  windward  as  they  cast. 

Against  the  sun  they  gave  to  shine 
The  bold  Sir  Roderick’s  banner’d  Pine. 

Nearer  and  nearer  as  they  bear, 

Spears,  pikes,  and  axes  flash  in  air. 

Now  might  you  see  the  tartans  brave, 

And  plaids  and  plumage  dance  and  wave : 

Now  see  the  bonnets  sink  and  rise. 

As  his  tough  oar  the  rower  plies ; 

See,  flashing  at  each  sturdy  stroke. 

The  wave  ascending  into  smoke  ; 

See  the  proud  pipers,”  i . . . 

In  these  lines,  Scott  enables  the  reader  to  see  the  boats  and  aU 
they  contain ; not  as  he  would  see  them  in  a picture,  but  as  they 
■would  gradually  come  into  sight,  while  approaching. 

In  like  manner,  we  become  more  familiar  with  the 
appearance  as  well  as  with  the  characteristic  qualities 
of  an  interesting  personage,  whether  in  history  or  in 
fiction,  who  is  shown  to  us  from  time  to  time  for  a 
moment  as  an  actor  on  the  scene,  than  we  can  ever  do 
with  one  formally  described.  It  is  thus  that  we  come  to 
know  people  in  real  life,  and  therefore  it  is  only  thus 
that  we  can,  if  at  all,  come  to  know  those  whom  we 
have  not  seen.  The  superior  vividness  of  the  dramatic 
form  of  composition  is  partly  attributable  to  this  cause. 

Such  are  the  limitations  imposed  on  the  art  of  the 
writer  by  the  nature  of  language ; but  lan- 

power  guage  is  not  merely  a succession  of  arbitrary 

of  words.  . -I  k • J 

signs  or  ot  mere  sounds.  As  its  signs  and. 

1 Scott : Lady  of  the  Lake,  canto  ii.  xv'. 


CUAP.  I.] 


MOVEMENT. 


179 


sounds  “ stand  by  compact  for  the  various  ideas  with 
which  it  is  fraught,  it  is  enabled  by  this  means  to  imi- 
tate as  far  as  language  can  express;  and  that,  it  is  evi- 
dent, includes  all  things.”  ^ 

If  language  cannot  depict  the  features  of  Laocoon,  it 
can  make  us  hear  his  cry  of  agony  ; if  language  cannot 
()ring  the  color  and  form  of  a flower  before  the  eye,  it 
can  make  us  feel  its  beauty,  and  can  invest  it  with 
poetical  associations.  The  loftiest  poetical  conceptions, 
indeed,  cannot  be  rendered  visible  or  audible ; for  the 
sublime  transcends  the  senses. 

Apollo’s  descent  “ like  night,”  Satan’s  fall  from  heaven,  are 
familiar  instances.  So  are  numerous  passages  in  King  Lear,  the 
Tempest,  Hamlet,  and  Macbeth. 

“ It  is  not  Linnaeus,  or  Cavendish,  or  Cuvier  who  gives  us  the 
true  sense  of  animals,  or  water,  or  plants,  who  seizes  their  secret 
for  us,  who  makes  us  participate  in  their  life;  it  is  Shakspere  with 
his 

“ ‘daffodils 

That  come  before  tlie  swallow  dares,  and  take 
The  winds  of  March  with  beauty;  ’ 

it  is  Wordsworth,  with  his 

“ ‘ voice  . . . hcurd 
In  spring-time  from  the  cuckoo-bird, 

Breaking  tlie  silence  of  the  seas 
Among  the  farthest  Hebrides ; ’ 

it  is  Keats,  with  his 

“ ‘ Moving  waters  at  their  priestlike  task 
Of  cold  ablution  round  Earth’s  human  shores;  ’ 

it  is  Chateaubriand,  with  his  ‘ cime  indelerminee  des  for£t»;'  it  is 
Seuancour,  with  his  mountain  birch-tree:  ‘ Celle  ecorce  blanche, 
lisse  el  crevasse ; celle  lige  agresle  ; ces  branches  qui  s'incUnent  vers  la 
lerre;  la  mobilile  des  feuilles,  et  loul  cel  abandon,  simpUcile  de  la  na- 
lure,  allilude  des  deserlsd  ” * 

“In  painting  we  may  represent  any  fine  figure  we  please;  but 

1 Harris:  Concerning  Art,  Music,  Painting,  and  Poetry,  chap.  i.  pp.  57,  58. 

Matthew  Arnold : Essa3’s  in  Criticism ; Maurice  de  Guerin. 


180 


NARRATION  AND  DESCRIPTION. 


[Book  I. 


we  never  can  give  it  those  enlivening  touches  whicli  it  may  receive 
from  words.  To  represent  an  angel  in  a picture,  you  can  only 
draw  a beautiful  young  man  winged : but  what  painting  can  fur- 
nish out  any  thing  so  grand  as  the  addition  of  one  word,  the  angel 
of  the  Lord  1 ...  As  there  is  a moving  tone  of  voice,  an  impas- 
sioned countenance,  an  agitated  gesture  which  affect  independently 
of  the  things  about  which  they  are  exerted,  so  there  are  words,  and 
certain  dispositions  of  words,  which  being  peculiarly  devoted  to 
passionate  subjects,  and  always  used  by  those  who  are  under  the 
influence  of  any  passion,  touch  and  move  us  more  than  those  which 
far  more  cleaidy  and  distinctly  express  the  subject-matter.  We 
yield  to  sympathy  tuhat  we  refuse  to  description.  ’ ’ ^ 


' Burke:  On  the  Sublime  aucl  Beautiful,  part  v.  sec.  vii.  Sec  p.  111. 


CUAP.  II.J 


METHOD. 


181 


CHAPTER  II. 

METHOD. 

It  is  not  enough  that  a narrative  should  move ; it 
should  move  forivard.  There  should  be  method  ^ in  it  — 
that  is,  progressive  transition}  Important  as  method  is 
in  every  kind  of  composition,  it  is  not  always  essential 
to  success.  A philosopher  may  contribute  detached 
sayings  (aphorisms)  to  the  general  stock  of  wisdom  ■,  an 
essayist  may  be  charming  as  he  rambles  in  pleasant 
fields  of  thought  and  gossips  with  his  readers ; and 
even  a composition  mainly  intended  to  persuade  the 
persons  addressed  may,  to  accomplish  some  incidental 
purpose,  leave  the  main  line  of  argument  for  a mo- 
ment ; but  a narrative  is  defective,  as  a narrative,  in 
so  far  as  it  does  not  go  right  on  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end. 

A prolix  writer  may,  perhaps,  be  creeping  in  the  right 
direction;  a “word-painter,”  though  he  detains  his  read- 
ers while  he  is  “doing”  a sunset  or  a heroine,  may 
detain  them  at  the  road -side;  but  a story-teller  who 
runs  this  way  and  that,  who  is  reminded  of  something 
which  is  entirely  aside  from  his  narrative,  but  which 
happened  at  about  the  same  time  or  near  the  same 
place,  and  who  returns  to  his  subject  as  if  by  accident, 
is  perhaps  the  most  vexatious  of  all  who  try  to  com- 
municate by  language  with  their  fellow-beings. 

A methodical  habit  of  mind  constitutes  the  most  im- 


1 Mc'floSos,  from  juertf,  after,  and  6S(Ss,  a road  or  way. 


NAIUIATION  AND  DESCRIPTION.  ^Book  I. 

pol’tant  difference  between  a well-educated  and  an  un^ 
cultivated  man. 

The  superiority  of  the  educated  man  is  due  to  the  unpremedi- 
tated and  evidently  habitual  arrangement  of  his  words,  grounded  on 
the  habit  of  foreseeing,  in  each  integral  part,  or  (more  plainly)  in 
every  sentence,  the  whole  that  he  then  intends  to  communicate. 
However  irregular  and  desultory  his  talk,  there  is  method  in  the 
fragments. 

“ Listen,  on  the  other  hand,  to  an  ignorant  man,  though  pei’haps 
shrewd  and  able  in  his  particular  calling;  whether  he  be  describ- 
ing or  relating.  We  immediately  perceive  that  his  memory  alone 
is  called  into  action ; and  that  the  objects  and  events  recur  in  the 
narration  in  the  same  order,  and  with  the  same  accompaniments, 
however  accidental  or  impei'tinent,  as  they  had  first  occurred  to  the 
narrator.  The  necessity  of  taking  breath,  the  efforts  of  recollec- 
tion, and  the  abrupt  rectification  of  its  failures,  produce  all  his 
pauses;  and  with  exception  of  the  ‘ and  then,'  the  ‘ and  there,’  and 
the  still  less  significant  ‘ and  so,’  they  constitute  likewise  all  his 
connections.”  ^ 

Coleridge  goes  on  to  contrast  the  narration  given  by  Hamlet  to 
Horatio  of  his  voyage  to  England  (Hamlet,  act  v.  scene  ii.)  with 
the  Clown’s  evidence  (Measure  for  Measui’e,  act  ii.  scene  i.),  the 
talk  of  the  Nurse  (Romeo  and  Juliet,  act  i.  scene  iii. ; act  ii. 
scene  vi.),  and  Mrs.  Quickly’s  relation  of  the  circumstances  of  Sir 
John  Falstaff’s  debt  to  her  (Henry  IV.  part  ii.  act  ii.  scene  i.). 

An  example  may  be  taken  from  Webster’s  speech  in  the  White 
murder  case.  Here  the  narration  not  only  serves  as  a methodical 
statement  of  (supposed)  facts,  but  also  paves  the  way  for  the 
argument ; — 

“ The  circumstances  now  clearly  in  evidence  spread  out  the 
whole  scene  before  us.  Deep  sleep  had  fallen  on  the  destined  vic- 
tim, and  on  all  beneath  his  roof.  A healthful  old  man,  to  whom 
sleep  was  sweet,  the  first  sound  slumbers  of  the  night  held  him  in 
their  soft  but  strong  embrace.  The  assassin  enters,  through  the 
window  already  prepared,  into  an  unoccupied  apartment.  With 
noiseless  foot  he  paces  the  lonely  hall,  half -lighted  by  the  moon; 
he  winds  up  the  ascent  of  the  stairs,  and  reaches  the  door  of  the 


1 Coleridge : The  Friend,  sect.  ii.  essay  iv. 


Chap.  II.] 


METHOD. 


183 


chamber.  Of  this,  he  moves  the  lock,  by  soft  and  continued  pres- 
sure, till  it  turns  on  its  hinges  without  noise;  and  he  enters,  and 
beholds  his  victim  before  him.  The  room  is  uncommonly  open  to 
the  admission  of  light.  The  face  of  the  innocent  sleeper  is  turned 
from  the  murderer,  and  the  beams  of  the  moon,  resting  on  the  gray 
locks  of  his  aged  temple,  show  him  where  to  strike.  The  fatal 
blow  is  given  ! and  the  victim  passes,  without  a struggle  or  a mo- 
tion, from  the  repose  of  sleep  to  the  repose  of  death!  It  is  the 
assassin’s  purpose  to  make  sure  work;  and  he  plies  the  dagger, 
though  it  is  obvious  that  life  has  been  destroyed  by  the  blow  of  the 
bludgeon.  lie  even  raises  the  aged  arm,  that  he  may  not  fail  in 
his  aim  at  the  heart,  and  replaces  it  again  over  the  wounds  of  the 
poniard!  To  finish  the  picture,  he  explores  the  wrist  for  the  pulse! 
He  feels  for  it,  and  ascertains  that  it  beats  no  longer!  It  is  accom- 
plished. The  deed  is  done.  lie  retreats,  retraces  his  steps  to  the 
window,  passes  out  through  it  as  he  came  in,  and  escapes.  He  has 
done  the  murder.  No  eye  has  seen  him,  no  ear  has  heard  him. 
The  secret  is  his  own,  and  it  is  safe  !”  ^ 

The  main  cause  of  this  difference  between  the  prod- 
ucts of  an  undisciplined  and  those  of  a cultivated  mind 
lies  in  the  absence  from  the  one  and  the  presence  in  the 
other  of  a leading  thought,  a central  idea,  around  which 
facts  group  themselves  in  accordance  with  their  relative 
value  and  pertinence.  This  leading  thought  gives  Unity 
to  that  which  would  otherwise  be  a meaningless  Variety. 
Without  movement  a narrative  can  have  no  life  ; with- 
out method  its  life  will  be  to  little  purpose. 


1 Webster:  Works,  vol.  vi.  p.  53. 


184 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


BOOK  11. 

ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION, 


CHAPTER  1. 

PROPOSITION  AND  PROOF. 

The  body  of  every  composition  in  which  reasoning 
plays  an  important  part  consists  of  the  Proposition  — 
that  which  is  to  be  proved  — and  the  Proof. 

The  proposition,  in  this  sense,  is  also  called  the  conclusion,'^  that 
■which  “is  and  must  be  shut  in  with^  certain  other  preceding 
things  put  in  first  ” ^ (or,  that  which  closes  those  preceding  things 
together).  The  proof  is  also  called  the  premises,^ — that  is,  propo- 
sitions (admitted  or  previously  proved)  which  are  put  forward^  as 
the  basis  of  the  reasoning.  “To  infer*  a conclusion  is  to  bring 
in,*  as  it  were,  the  direct  statement  of  that  which  has  been  virtu- 
ally stated  already,  has  been  shut  in.'"  ® 

In  a chain  of  reasoning,  the  first  conclusion  inferred,  the  first 
inference,  serves  as  a premise  for  the  second  inference,  and  so  on ; 
that  which  was  at  first  a proposition  to  be  proved  becomes  an  argu- 
ment for  a new  proposition. 

It  may  or  may  not  be  necessary  to  appeal  to  the  pas- 
sions or  the  feelings,  to  bespeak  favorable  attention  by 

1 Conclusus:  from  com-,  ■with,  and  cludo,  or  claudo,  close. 

2 De  Morgan : formal  Logic,  chap.  ii.  p.  43. 

8 Praemissa:  ivomprae,  before,  and  miito,  send  or  put.  See  p.  190. 

■*  From  in,  in,  and  fero,  bring.  * De  Morgan : Logic,  chap.  ii.  p.  43. 


Chap.  I ] 


PROrOSITION  AND  PROOF. 


185 


a skilful  exordium,  to  make  a favorable  impression  by  a 
skilful  peroration,  or  to  pave  the  way  for  the  argument 
by  an  elaborate  narration,  or  statement  of  facts ; ^ but 
it  is  always  necessary  to  have  clearly  in  mind  a propo- 
sition to  prove,  and  at  least  one  argument  which  goes 
to  prove  that  proposition. 

Not  that  it  is  always  expedient  to  state  the  proposi- 
tion distinctly  at  the  outset.  Reasons  springing  from 
the  nature  of  the  subject-matter  or  from  the  character  of 
the  Iversons  addressed  may  (as  will  hereafter  be  shown 2) 
render  it  advisable  to  lead  up  to  the  conclusion,  either 
rapidly  or  by  successive  steps  of  reasoning.  Between 
the  extreme  of  holding  the  thing  to  be  proved  in  plain 
view  throughout  the  argument,  and  that  of  keeping  it 
out  of  sight  till  the  very  end,  there  are  many  methods, 
any  one  of  which  may  be  justified  by  circumstances. 

No  circumstances,  however,  can  free  a writer  or  a 
speaker  from  the  obligation  to  have  the  prop- 
osition he  maintains  distinctly  fixed  in  Ids  of'hapng'^^ 
oivn  mind  before  he  undertakes  to  argue  in  proposition 

• ■ ml  o • ■ • in  mind. 

its  support,  ilie  process  ot  investigation, 
by  which  a man  arrives  at  certain  conclusions,  must 
be  completed  before  the  rhetorical  process,  by  which  he 
endeavors  to  convince  others,  can  properly  begin.  Dis- 
tinctness of  conception  does  not,  indeed,  necessarily 
imply  distinctness  of  expression  ; for  knowledge  is  a 
very  different  thing  from  the  ability  to  communicate 
knowledge  : but  no  one  can,  except  by  accident,  clearly 
state  what  he  does  not  clearly  understand.  Rhetoric, 
accordingly,  though  it  does  not  undertake  to  provide  a 
WTiter  with  materials,  does  require  that  he  should  pro- 
vide liimself  Avith  them,  — to  the  extent,  at  least,  that 

• See  p.  182.  2 Sep  p 227. 


186 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 

he  should  have  definite  assertion  about  something  to 
maintain. 

“ I would  go  the  length  of  recommending  a preacher  to  place  a 
distinct  categorical  proposition  before  him,  such  as  he  can  write 
down  in  a form  of  words,  and  to  guide  and  limit  his  preparation 
by  it,  and  to  aim  in  all  he  says  to  bring  it  out,  and  nothing  else. 
. . . Nor  will  a preacher’s  earnestness  show  itself  in  any  thing  more 
unequivocally  than  in  his  rejecting,  whatever  be  the  temptation 
to  admit  it,  every  remark  however  original,  every  period  however 
eloquent,  which  does  not  in  some  way  or  other  tend  to  bring  out 
this  one  distinct  proposition  which  he  has  chosen.  Nothing  is  so 
fatal  to  the  effect  of  a sermon  as  the  habit  of  preaching  on  three 
or  four  subjects  at  once.”  i 

A term  — that  is,  the  name  of  a thing  — is  not  a 
A term's  P'^oposition.  “ Hoiiesty,”  for  example,  is  in 
no  just  SGnse  a subject  for  composition  (un- 
less, indeed,  a definition  of  the  word  is  re- 
quired) ; for,  though  many  propositions  about  honesty 
can  be  framed,  the  word  by  itself  suggests  no  one  of 
them  rather  than  another  : but  “ honesty  is  the  best  pol- 
icy ” is  a subject ; for  it  makes  an  affirmation  concerning 
honesty,  an  affirmation  which  can  be  reasoned  about. 

If,  then,  a person  is  asked  to  write  upon  “honesty,” 
he  should  begin  by  considering  what  he  believes  to  be 
true  about  honesty,  that  is,  by  framing  some  proposi- 
tion about  it.  By  so  doing,  he  will  bring  the  subject 
within  convenient  limits,  will  secure  a nucleus  for  his 
arguments,  and  thus  take  the  first  step  toward  Unity 
of  composition?  He  may  not  choose  the  best  road  to 
his  destination,  but  he  is  on  some  road  at  any  rate,  and 
he  has  a destination. 

A good  example  of  the  practical  effect  of  taking  as  one’s  subject 
a term  instead  of  a proposition  is  given  by  Dr.  J.  11.  Newman  ® in 

1 .1.  H.  Newman : Lectures  on  University  Subjects,  pp.  196,  197. 

2 See  pp.  158,  164, 183.  ^ Lectures  on  University  Subjeets,  p.  150. 


Chap.  I ] 


PROPOSITION  AND  PROOF. 


187 


tlie  shape  of  a composition  by  young  Mr.  Brown,  which  is  sup- 
posed to  liave  been  sent  by  his  admiring  father  to  a tutor  at  the 
University:  — 

“ ‘ FonxES  Fortuna  Ad,juvat.’ 

“ ‘ Of  all  the  uncertain  and  capricious  powers  which  rule  our 
earthly  destiny,  Fortune  is  the  chief.  Who  has  not  heard  of  the 
poor  being  raised  up,  and  the  rich  being  laid  low?  Alexander  the 
(treat  said  he  envied  Diogenes  in  his  tub,  because  Diogenes  could 
have  nothing  less.  We  need  not  go  far  for  an  instance  of  fortune. 
Who  was  so  great  as  Nicholas,  the  Czar  of  all  the  Russians,  a year 
ago,  and  now  he  is  “ fallen,  fallen  from  his  high  estate,  without  a 
friend  to  grace  his  ob.sequies.”  ^ The  Turks  are  the  finest  specimen 
of  the  human  race,  yet  they  too  have  experienced  the  vicissitudes 
of  fortune.  Horace  says  that  we  should  wrap  ourselves  in  our  virtue 
when  fortune  changes.  Napoleon,  too,  shows  us  how  little  we  can 
rely  on  fortune;  but  his  faults,  gi-eat  as  they  were,  are  being  re- 
deemed by  his  nephew,  Louis  Napoleon,  who  has  shown  him.self 
very  different  from  what  we  expected,  though  he  has  never  ex- 
plained how  he  came  to  swear  to  the  Constitution,  and  then  mounted 
the  imperial  throne.^ 

“ ‘ From  all  this  it  appears  that  we  should  rely  on  fortune  only 
while  it  remains, — recollecting  the  words  of  the  thesis,  “Fortes 
fortuna  adjuvat;”  and  that,  above  all,  we  should  ever  cultivate 
those  virtues  which  will  never  fail  us,  and  which  are  a sure  basis 
of  respectability,  and  will  profit  us  here  and  hereafter.  ’ 

“ ‘ Not  one  word  of  this,’  says  Mr.  Black,  to  whom  the  boy’s 
father  has  submitted  the  composition  for  criticism,  ‘ is  upon  the 
thesis.  . . . “ Fortes  fortuna  adjuvat  ” is  a,  projwsilion ; it  states  a 
certain  general  principle,  and  this  is  just  what  an  ordinary  boy 
would  be  sure  to  miss,  and  Robert  does  miss  it.  lie  goes  off  at 
once  on  the  word  “fortuna.”  “Fortuna”  was  not  his  subject; 
the  thesis  wms  intended  to  guide  him,  for  his  own  good ; he  refuses 
to  be  put  into  leading-strings;  he  breaks  loose,  and  runs  off  in  his 
own  fashion  on  the  broad  field  and  in  wild  chase  of  “ fortune,” 
instead  of  closing  with  tlie  subject,  which,  as  being  definite,  would 
have  supported  him. 

“ ‘ It  would  have  been  veiy  cruel  to  have  told  a boy  to  write  on 

1 “Mr.  Crown  prophesies  here.  He  wrote  in  June,  1854.” 

2 See  p.  159. 

9 


188 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II 


“fortune;”  it  would  have  been  like  asking  him  his  opinion  of 
“ things  in  general.”  Fortune  is  “ good,”  “ bad,”  “ capricious,” 
“ unexpected,”  ten  thousand  things  all  at  once  (j'ou  see  them  all 
in  the  Gradus),  and  one  of  them  as  much  as  the  other.  Ten  thou- 
sand things  may  be  said  of  it;  give  me  one  of  them,  and  I will 
wiite  upon  it;  I cannot  write  on  more  than  one:  Robert  prefers  to 
write  upon  all.  . . . 

“ ‘ Boys  do  not  rouse  up  their  attention  and  reflect:  they  do  not 
like  the  trouble  of  it;  they  cannot  look  at  any  thing  steadily;  and, 
when  they  attempt  to  write,  off  they  go  in  a rigmarole  of  words, 
which  does  them  no  good,  and  never  would,  though  they  wrote 
themes  till  they  died.  . . . 

“ ‘ Now,  I know  how  this  theme  was  written:  first  one  sentence, 
and  then  your  boy  sat  thinking  and  devouring  the  end  of  his  pen ; 
presently  down  went  the  second,  and  so  on.  The  rule  is,  first 
think,  and  then  write:  don’t  write  when  you  have  nothing  to  say; 
or,  if  you  do,  you  will  make  a mess  of  it.  . . . 

“ ‘ Now,  I will  prophesy  one  thing  of  Robert,  unless  this  fault 
is  knocked  out  of  him,’  continues  merciless  Mr.  Black.  ‘ When 
he  grows  up,  and  has  to  make  a speech,  or  write  a letter  for  the 
papers,  he  will  look  out  for  flowers,  full-blown  flowers,  figures, 
smart  expressions,  trite  quotations,  hackneyed  beginnings  and  end- 
ings, pompous  circumlocutions,  and  so  on;  but  the  meaning,  the 
sense,  the  solid  sense,  the  foundation,  you  may  hunt  the  slipper 
long  enough,  before  you  catch  it.’” 

The  Proof  comprehends  all  the  arguments  that  tend 
to  convince  tlie  persons  addressed  of  the  truth 

The  Proof.  . . _ 

ot  the  proposition  to  he  proved.  Its  cogency 
depends  (1)  upon  a judicious  selection  of  such  argu- 
ments, and  (2)  upon  their  skilful  arrangement.  We 
have,  then,  to  consider  the  classification  and  choice  of 
arguments,  and  the  principles  of  their  arrangement. 


Chap.  II.]  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


189 


CHAPTER  II. 

THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 

SECTION  I. 

Principles  of  Classification. 

The  subject-matter  of  Argumentative  Composition 
may  come  from  any  of  tlie  numerous  depart-  Material  of 
ments  of  liuman  knowledge ; for  every  de- 
partment  of  knowledge  embraces  many  topics  upon 
which  it  is  possible  to  reason.  The  process  of  reasoning 
is  the  same,  whatever  the  topic. 

“ The  vast  results  obtained  by  science  ai'e  won  by  no  mystical 
faculties,  by  no  mental  processes,  otlier  than  those  which  are  prac- 
tised by  every  one  of  us  in  the  humblest  and  meanest  affairs  of 
life.  A detective  jioliceman  discovers  a burglar  from  the  marks 
made  by  his  shoe,  by  a mental  process  identical  with  that  by  which 
Cuvier  restored  the  extinct  animals  of  Montmartre  from  fragments 
of  their  bones.  Nor  does  that  process  of  induction  ^ and  deduction  ^ 
by  which  a lady,  finding  a stain  of  a particular  kind  upon  her 
dress,  concludes  that  somebody  has  upset  the  inkstand  thereon, 
differ  in  any  way  from  that  by  which  Adams  and  Levender  dis- 
covered a new  planet.  The  man  of  science,  in  fact,  simply  uses 
with  scrupulous  exactness  the  methods  which  we  all  habitually  and 
at  every  moment  use  carelessly.”  ^ 

“ The  validity  of  tlie  argument,  when  constructed,  depends 

1 Induction  is  “the  process  of  collecting  general  truths  from  the  examina- 
tion of  particular  facts.”  See,  also,  p.  213.  Deduction  is  “ the  process  of  draw- 
ing conclusions  from  fundamental  principles”  [however  obtained].  Whewell: 
History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences ; Introduction. 

2 T.  H.  Huxley:  Lay  Sermons,  p.  78. 


190 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


on  principles,  and  must  be  tried  by  tests  which  are  the  same 
for  all  descriptions  of  inquiries,  whether  the  result  be  to  give 
A an  estate,  or  to  enrich  science  with  a new  general  truth.  In 
the  one  case  and  in  the  other,  the  senses  or  testimony  must  decide 
on  the  individual  facts;  the  rules  of  the  syllogism^  [the  joining 
together  in  thought  of  two  propositions]  will  determine  whether, 
those  facts  being  supposed  correct,  the  case  really  falls  within  the 
formul®  of  the  different  inductions  ^ under  which  it  has  been 
successively  brought ; and  finally,  the  legitimacy  of  the  inductions 
themselves  must  be  decided  by  other  rules.”  ® 

Logic,  strictly  so  called,  deals  with  the  relation  be- 
nn<ncai  forms  Iweeii  the  premises  and  the  conclusion.  It 
of  arguments,  concems  itself  with  the  question,  not  whether 
the  premises  are  true  or  false,  but  whether  the  conclu- 
sion follows  from  the  premises  if  they  are  true. 

If  held  to  include  induction,'^  Logic  concerns  itself 
with  the  subject-matter,  as  well  as  with  the  form,  of 
reasoning  ; and  it  differs  from  Rhetoric  in  the  fact  that 
its  conclusions  are  established  for  their  own  sake,  while 
those  of  Rhetoric  are  established  with  a view  to  the  con- 
viction of  some  person  or  persons.® 

Formal  Logic,  however,  the  science  of  ratiocination 
syiio-nstic  syllogisms),  has  no  concern  with  the 

reasoning,  gubject-matter,  but  is  as  applicable  to  un- 
meaning letters  or  figures  as  to  intelligible  language. 
Its  business  is  to  supply  tests  by  which  to  determine 
the  validity  of  all  reasoning. 

“To  a legitimate  syllogism  it  is  essential  that  there  should  be 
three,  and  no  more  than  three,  propositions;  namely,  the  conclu- 
sion, or  proposition  to  be  proved,  and  two  other  propositions  which 
together  prove  it,  and  which  are  called  the  premises.  It  is  essen- 

1 From  avv,  together  with,  and  \6yos,  thought  or  reason.  See  paragraph 
below. 

2 See  p.  189. 

^ See  p.  180, 


8 Mill ; Logic,  book  iii.  chap.  i.  sect.  i. 
5 See  Introduction. 


Chap.  II.)  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


191 


tial  that  there  should  be  three,  and  no  more  than  three,  terms; 
namely,  the  subject  and  predicate  of  the  conclusion,  and  another 
called  the  middle  term,  which  must  be  found  in  both  premises, 
since  it  is  by  means  of  it  that  the  other  two  terms  are  to  be  con- 
nected together.  The  predicate  of  the  conclusion  is  called  the 
major  term  of  the  syllogism;  the  subject  of  the  conclusion  is 
called  the  minor  term.  As  there  can  be  but  three  terms,  the 
major  and  minor  terms  must  each  be  found  in  one,  and  only 
one,  of  the  premises,  together  with  the  middle  term  which  is 
in  them  both.  The  premise  which  contains  the  middle  term 
and  the  major  term  is  called  the  major  premise ; that  which  con- 
tains the  middle  term  and  the  minor  term  is  called  the  minor 
premise.”  ^ 

The  same  argument  may  he  presented  in  various 
logical  forms.  For  example:  — 

(1)  A law  which  cannot  be  enforced  should  not  remain  on  the 
statute  book;  the  law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors 
is  a law  which  caunot  be  enforced;  this  law,  therefore,  should  jrot 
remain  on  the  statute  book. 

(2)  If  a law  cannot  be  enforced,  it  should  not  remain  on  the 
statute  book ; the  law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors 
is  a law  which  cannot  be  enforced;  this  law,  therefore,  should  not 
remain  on  the  statute  book. 

(3a)  A law  which  cannot  be  enforced  should  not  remain  on  the 
statute  book;  the  law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors, 
therefore,  .should  not  remain  on  the  statute  book. 

(3b)  The  law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  can- 
not be  enforced;  this  law,  therefore,  should  not  remain  on  the 
statute  book. 

The  syllogism  under  (1)  differs  from  that  under  (2)  only  in  its 
manner  of  stating  the  first  premise:  in  that  under  (1)  a proposition 
is  affirmed  concerning  certain  laws  which  ai-e  assumed  to  exist;  in 
that  under  (2)  the  same  proposition  is  affirmed  concerning  certain 
law's  on  the  hypothesis  that  they  exist.  The  abridged  syllogisms 
(3a)  and  (3/;)  (known  as  enthymemes)  differ  from  the  syllogisms 
under  (1)  and  (2)  in  the  omission  (3a)  of  the  second  premise,  or  (3b) 
of  the  first  premise,  — an  omission  which  is  readily  supplieil. 

1 Mill ; Logic,  book  ii.  chap.  ii.  sect  i. 


192 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  IL 


The  same  argument  may  he  used  for  opposite  purposes ; 
it  may  serve  either  (1)  to  establish  or  (2)  to 
indirect  overthrow  a proposition,  — that  is,  it  may  he 

arguments.  n n t i r,  • • 

used  (1)  directly  or  (2)  indirectly.  As  : — 

(1)  Skill  ill  public  speaking  is  liable  to  gTeat  abuse ; it  should, 
therefore,  not  be  cultivated. 

(2)  But  the  proposition  in  the  expressed  premise  is  equally  true 
of  the  best  things  in  the  world  — as  health,  wealth,  power,  military 
skill  the  best  things  in  the  world  are,  therefore,  not  worth  culti- 
vating — an  absurdity. 

The  conclusion  under  (1)  cannot  be  proved  without  the  aid  of 
the  implied  premise, — namely,  that  nothing  which  is  liable  to 
great  abuse  should  be  cultivated:  the  argument  under  (2)  com- 
bines this  premise  with  the  expressed  premise  to  show  that  they 
lead,  not  only  to  the  conclusion  under  (1),  but  also  to  a more 
general  conclusion  which  is  absurd ; the  argiunent  under  (2)  i.s 
thus  a reductio  ad  absurdum  of  that  under  (1). 

An  argument  wliicli  can  Le  answered  by  a reductio 
ad  absurdum  is  said  to  prove  too  much.,  that  is,  too  much 
for  its  force  as  an  argument ; since  to  disprove  the 
conclusion  is,  if  the  reasoning  is  logically  sound,  to  dis- 
prove one  of  the  premises  also.  The  argument  thus 
carries  in  itself  the  means  of  its  own  destruction.  For 
example : — 

“He  [Mr.  Gladstone]  lays  down  broad  general  doctrines  about 
power,  when  the  only  power  of  which  he  is  thinking  is  the  power 
of  governments,  — about  conjoint  action,  when  the  only  conjoint 
action  of  which  he  is  thinking  is  the  conjoint  action  of  citizens  in 
a State.  He  first  resolves  on  his  conclusion.  He  then  makes  a 
major of  most  comprehensive  dimensions;  and,  having  satisfied 
himself  that  it  contains  his  conclusion,  never  troubles  himself 
about  what  else  it  may  contain.  And  as  soon  as  we  examine  it, 
we  find  that  it  contains  an  infinite  number  of  conclusions,  every 
one  of  which  is  a monstrous  absurdity.  ’ ’ * 

* Aristotle : Rhetoric,  book  i.  chap.  i.  ’ See  p.  191. 

' Macaulay : Essays ; Church  and  State.  See  also  p.  119. 


Chap.  II.]  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


193 


In  a direct  argument,  a reasoner  openlj^,  seriously, 
in  his  own  person,  seeks  to  establish  a point.  In  an 
indirect  argument,  he  masks  his  purpose  in  order  the 
more  surely  to  prove  the  falsity  of  his  opponent’s  argu- 
ments ; he  pretends  to  agree  with  them  ; or  he  main- 
tains with  mock  seriousness — irony  — the  opposite  of 
what  he  himself  believes. 

Well-known  instances  of  ironical  arguments  are  Burke’s  “Vin- 
dication of  Natural  Society,”  in  which  Bolingbroke’s  arguments 
against  religious  institutions  are  applied  to  civil  society;  Whately’s 
“ Historic  Doubts,”  in  which  Hume’s  arguments  against  Chris- 
tianity are  used  to  jwove  the  non-existence  of  Najioleon  Bonaparte; 
Swift’s  “ Argument  against  the  Abolishment  of  Christianity,” 
and  his  “ Modest  Proposal”  for  relieving  Ireland  from  famine  by 
having  the  children  cooked  and  eaten. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  evident  that  the  essen- 
tial distinctions  of  arguments  are  founded  upon  neither 
their  subject-matter,  nor  their  logical  form,  nor  the  pur- 
pose for  Avhich  they  are  used ; since  any  subject-matter 
can  be  presented  in  any  logical  form  and  used  for  any 
purpose. 

Arguments  might  be  classed  as  either  inductive  or 
deductive  ; ^ but  a classification  equally  clear,  and  more 
convenient  for  the  purposes  of  Rhetoric,  is  that  based 
upon  their  derivation  from  one  of  three  sources : (1) 
Antecedent  Probability  ; (2)  Sign ; or  (3)  Example. 


SECTION  II. 

Arguments  fro:\i  Antecedent  Probability. 

In  arguments  of  the  first  class,  a reasoner,  assuming 
a proposition  to  be  true,  tries  to  account  for  it,  to  show 


1 See  p.  1 83. 


194 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


^vhy  it  is  true.  lu  a trial  for  murder,  for  example,  evi- 
dence that  tlie  accused  liated  the  murdered  man  or  would 
he  enriched  by  his  death  goes  to  show,  not  that  he  com- 
mitted the  crime,  but  ivhy  he  may  have  committed  it. 
The  argument  based  on  such  evidence  lies  in  a proba- 
bility derived  from  the  existence  of  a cause  (the  motive) 
tending  to  produce  an  effect  (the  murder),  — a proba- 
bilit}^  which  must  have  existed  antecedently  to  the  com- 
mission of  tlie  crime. 

Tlie  force  of  the  argument  in  this  case  varies  with 

the  degree  of  this  probability,  which  depends, 
from  Ante-  ill  its  tum,  upoii  the  presence  or  absence  of 

cedent  Proba-  , 

bilityvary  other  antecedent  probabilities,  — that  is,  ot 

in  force.  . 

causes  tending  to  prevent  hate  or  covetous- 
ness from  producing  its  natural  effect.  In  a civilized 
community,  such  a probability,  if  unaccompanied  by 
other  evidence,  would  be  very  small ; for,  in  a civilized 
community,  the  passions  and  appetites  are  counteracted 
by  so  many  other  causes  that  they  rarely  produce  their 
natural  effects : but  among  savages  such  a probability 
Avould  amount  to  a reasonable  certainty. 

We  may  argue  in  a similar  manner  ivitli  reference 
to  every  Immaii  action  and  every  natural  event.  The 
argument  may  be  as  strong  as  the  probability  that  the 
laws  of  the  physical  universe  will  continue  unchanged ; 
or  as  the  probability  that  human  nature  will  remain  as 
we  have  known  it  to  be;  or  as  the  probability  that  a 
certain  man  will  act  as  most  men  do,  or  as  he  himself 
has  done,  in  similar  circumstances. 

It  is  difficult  to  convict  an  accused  person  against 
Necessity  wliom  no  argument  from  Antecedent  Proba- 
a^uralnts  caii  be  brought.  The  evidence  from 

of  this  class,  other  sources  must  be  very  strong  to  estab- 


Chap.  II  1 THREE  CLASSES  Oi’  ARGUMENTS. 


195 


lish  guilt  for  which  no  sufficient  motive  is  alleged,  an 
effect  for  which  there  is  no  adequate  cause. 

Ill  the  famous  case  of  Levi  and  Laban  Kenniston,  indicted  for 
highway  robbery  on  the  per-son  of  Major  Goodridge,  Webster’s 
defence  i was  based  on  the  hypothesis  that  Goodridge  robbed  him- 
self, and  the  main  difficulty  he  struggled  with  was  the  absence  of 
a sufficient  motive  for  such  an  act.  On  this  point  he  is  reported 
to  have  .spoken  as  follows:  — 

“ It  is  next  to  be  considered  whether  the  prosecutor’s  story  is 
either  natural  or  consistent.  But,  on  the  threshold  of  the  inquiry, 
every  one  puts  the  question,  AVhat  motive  had  the  prosecutor  to  be 
guilty  of  the  abominable  conduct  of  feigning  a robbery?  It  is 
difficult  to  assign  motives.  The  jury  do  not  know  enough  of  his 
character  or  circum-stances.  Such  things  have  happened,  and  may 
happen  again.  Suppose*  he  ov/ed  money  in  Boston,  and  had  it 
not  to  pay?  Who  knows  how  high  he  might  estimate  the  value  of 
a plausible  apology?  Some  men  have  also  a whimsical  ambition 
of  distinction.  There  is  no  end  to  the  variety  of  modes  in  which 
human  vanity  exhibits  itself.  A story  of  this  nature  excites  the 
public  sympathy.  It  attracts  general  attention.  It  causes  the 
name  of  the  prosecutor  to  be  celebrated  as  a man  who  has  been 
attacked,  and,  after  a manly  resistance,  overcome  by  robbers,  and 
who  has  renewed  his  resistance  as  soon  as  returning  life  and  sen- 
sation enabled  him,  and,  after  a second  conflict,  has  been  quite 
subdued,  beaten  and  bruised  out  of  all  sense  and  sensation,  and 
finally  left  for  dead  on  the  field.  It  is  not  easy  to  say  how  far 
such  motives,  trifling  and  ridiculous  as  most  men  would  think 
tliem,  might  influence  the  prosecutor,  when  connected  with  any 
expectation  of  favor  or  indulgence,  if  he  wanted  such,  from  his 
creditors.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  he  probably  did  not 
see  all  the  consequences  of  his  conduct,  if  his  robbery  be  a pre- 
tence. He  might  not  intend  to  prosecute  anybody.  But  he 
probably  found,  and  indeed  there  is  evidence  to  show,  that  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  do  something  to  find  out  the  authors 
of  the  alleged  robbery.  lie  manifested  no  particular  zeal  on  this 
subject.  He  wms  in  no  haste.  He  appeal's  rather  to  have  been 
pressed  by  others  to  do  that  which,  if  he  had  really  been  robbed, 

1 Webster:  Works,  vol.  v.  pp.  441,  448,  4G1. 

9* 


196 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


■\ve  should  suppose  he  would  have  been  most  earnest  to  do,  the 
earliest  moment.” 

Even  in  the  imperfect  report  of  "Webster’s  argument,  both  his 
difficulty  in  meeting  this  point,  and  his  haste  in  passing  from  it 
to  the  stronger  part  of  his  case  are  evident.  Yet  the  difficulty 
was  much  less  serious  than  it  would  have  been,  had  Goodridge 
been  the  accused  person  instead  of  being  the  accuser ; for  in  that 
case  the  presumption  ^ of  innocence,  as  it  is  called,  would  have 
aided  him  instead  of  them. 

If  there  are  equally  strong  arguments  from  Antece- 
dent Probability  which  conflict  Avith  each 
arguments  Other,  that  is,  if  the  conclusion  can  be  ac- 
counted for  in  each  of  two  ways  equally  well, 
the  assumption  that  one  of  those  Avays  is  more  probable 
than  the  other  is  the  assumption  of  the  very  point  in 
issue,  — that  is,  it  is  a petitio  princ^ni.,  it  hegs  the 
question.  For  example  : — 

“A  ship  is  cast  away  under  such  circumstances  that  her  lo.ss 
may  be  accounted  for  either  by  fraud  or  by  accident.  The  captain 
is  tried  for  making  away  with  her.  A A'ariety  of  circumstances 
exist  which  would  indicate  preparation  and  expectation  on  his  part 
if  the  ship  really  was  made  away  with,  but  which  would  justify  no 
suspicion  at  all  if  she  w'as  not.  It  is  manifestly  illogical,  first,  to 
regard  the  antecedent  circumstances  as  suspicious,  because  the  loss 
of  the  ship  is  assumed  to  be  fraudulent,  and,  next,  to  infer  that  the 
ship  was  fraudulently  desti’oyed  from  the  suspicious  character  of 
the  antecedent  circumstances.  An  illustration  of  this  form  of  error 
occurred  in  the  case  of  11.  versus  Steward  and  two  others,  who  were 
convicted  at  Singapore,  in  1867,  for  casting  away  the  Schooner 
‘ Erin,’  and  subsequently  received  a free  pardon  on  the  ground  of 
their  innocence.”  ^ 


- The  argument  from  Antecedent  Probability  is  that 
The  argu-  which  the  Writer  of  Action  mainly  relies, 
works  of  Be  his  premises  — the  causes  — what  they  may 
fiction.  them  he  has  great  latitude),  he  is 

1 See  p 221.  2 Stephen : Introduction  to  the  Indian  Evidence  Act,  chap.  ii. 


Chap.  II.]  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


197 


bound  to  follow  them  to  their  legitimate  conclusions,  — 
the  effects  of  those  causes.  He  may  bring  any  charac- 
ters he  chooses  upon  the  stage,  but  those  whom  he  does 
bring  there  should  act  naturally,  that  is,  in  the  manner  in 
Avhich  beings  like  them  would  act.  He  may  invent  any 
series  of  events,  but  he  should  take  care  not  llagrantly 
to  violate  the  probabilities  familiar  to  his  readers’  expe- 
rience. “ He  should  prefer  an  impossibility  Avhich  seems 
probable  to  a iDrobability  which  seems  impossible  ; ” ^ for 
he  aims  at  universal,  not  at  particular,  truth.^ 

The  argument  from  Antecedent  Probability  evidently 
may  be  used  not  only  to  explain  what  has  Logical  ana 
happened^  but  also  wliat  is  likely  to  happen.  sequence® 

Thus,  the  fact  that  a general  has  won  successive  victories  by 
superior  skill  raises  an  antecedent  probability  that  he  will  win 
another  victory  over  the  same  antagonist,  — a probability  which, 
however,  may  be  counterbalanced  (in  whole  or  in  part)  by  other 
probabilities;  as,  for  instance,  one  based  on  the  fact  that  the  enemy 
has,  meantime,  been  heavily  reinfoi’ced. 

This  argument  may  be  used  in  reasoning  from  the 
past  to  the  present  or  future,  or  from  the  present  to 
the  future ; for  eauses  must  precede  effeets.  Thus  the 
order  of  the  argument  from  Anteeedent  Probability 
eoineides  with  the  order  of  events,  — the  logical  Avith 
the  chronological.,  or  historical,  sequence. 

SECTIOX  III. 

Augumexts  fuom  Sign*. 

In  Arguments  from  Sign,  logieal  sequenee  never  eoin- 
cides  Avitli  historical  sequence,  and  usually  is  its  oppo- 
site ; for  Signs  are  not  eauses  tending  to  produee  certain 
effects,  but  reasons  tending  to  produce  a belief  in  certain 

1 Aristotle : Poet.  xxv.  xvii. 


* Ibid. : ix.  iii. 


198 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMTOSITION.  IBook  II. 


facts  (past,  present,  or  future),  which  may  or  may  not 
stand  in  the  relation  of  cause  to  the  Signs  from  v/hich 
the  inference  is  drawn. 

Thus,  we  may  argue  from  the  s'ujn  furnished  by  growing  grain 
that  somebody  sowed  it,  and  that  somebody  will  reap  it;  from  the 
ringing  of  the  church  bells  at  the  usual  hour  on  Sunday  that  theie 
will  be  services;  from  a funeral  procession  that  some  one  has  died; 
from  the  flags  flying  on  Osborne  House  or  on  the  Capitol  at 
tV^ashington  that  the  Queen  is  in  her  mansion  or  that  Congress  is  in 
session ; from  the  prevailing  low  rate  of  interest  that  there  is  abun- 
dance of  unemployed  capital.  In  all  these  cases,  it  is  obvious  that 
the  sign  is  in  no  sense  a phy.sical  cause,  but  is  a logical  reason. 

So,  too,  in  the  following  passage:  — 

“ As  to  the  position,  pursuits,  and  connections  of  Junius,  the 
following  are  the  most  important  facts  which  can  be  considered  as 
clearly  proved:  first,  that  he  was  acquainted  with  the  technical 
forms  of  the  Secretary  of  State’s  office;  secondly,  that  he  was  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  the  business  of  the  war-office;  thirdly,  that 
he,  during  the  year  1770,  attended  debates  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
and  took  notes  of  speeches,  particularly  of  the  speeches  of  Lord 
Chatham;  fourthly,  that  he  bitterly  resented  the  appointment  of 
RL'.  Chamier  to  the  place  of  Deputy  Secretary  at  AVar;  fifthly,  that 
he  was  bound  by  some  strong  tie  to  the  first  Lord  Holland.  Now, 
Francis  passed  some  years  in  the  Secretary  of  State’s  office;  he 
was  subsequently  chief  clerk  of  the  war-office ; he  repeatedly  men- 
tioned that  he  had  himself,  in  1770,  heard  speeches  of  Lord  Chat- 
ham, and  some  of  those  speeches  were  actually  printed  from  his 
notes;  he  resigned  his  clerkship  at  the  war-office  from  resentment 
at  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Chamier;  it  was  by  Lord  Holland  that 
he  was  first  introduced  into  the  public  service.  Now  here  are  five 
marks  [or  s/yn,s],  all  of  which  ought  to  be  found  in  Junius.  They 
are  all  five  found  in  Francis.  AVe  do  not  believe  that  more  than 
two  of  them  can  be  found  in  any  other  person  whatever.  If  this 
argument  does  not  settle  the  question,  there  is  an  end  of  all  reason- 
ing, on  circumstantial  evidence.”  ^ 

If  we  v/ere  to  find  human  blood  upon  the  clothes  of  a person 
acciised  of  murder,  we  might  argue  that  it  came  from  the  murdered 

1 Macaula}'-:  Essays;  AVarren  Hastings. 


Chap.  II.  1 THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


199 


man:  it  would  be  a si(jn  pointing  to  a cause  adequate,  but  not 
necessary,  to  produce  the  effect. 

If  we  knew  tliat  ice  had  formed,  we  might  infer  that  the  ther- 
mometer liad  fallen  below  the  freezing  point;  if  we  knew  that  the 
thermometer  had  fallen  below  the  freezing  point,  we  might  infer 
that  ice  had  formed  or  was  forming:  each  would  be  a necessary  sign 
of  the  other.  In  this  case  we  should  reason,  not  from  effect  to  cause, 
but  from  one  effect  of  a cause  to  another  effect  of  the  same  cause,  — the 
low  temperature. 

If  we  should  infer  fi'om  the  cloven  hoofs  of  an  animal  of  whose 
habits  we  were  ignorant,  that  he  was  a ruminant,  we  should  argue  by 
sign;  but  in  this  case  we  should  know  nothing  more  than  the  coexist- 
ence in  other  animals  of  cloven  hoofs  with  habits  of  rumination,  — 
two  facts  that  may  or  may  not  depend  upon  a common  cause. 

The  degree  of  force  in  arguments  from  Sign  varies,  of 
course,  with  the  conditions  of  each  case.  Arguments 

from  Sign 

The  prophecies  of  the  meteorologist  and  those  of  the  vary  in  force, 
astronomer  are  both  ba.sed  on  the  “ uniformities  of  N’ature;”  but 
the  former  are  less  likely  to  be  fulfilled  than  the  latter,  because  the 
signs  of  the  weather  are  less  fully  known  than  the  signs  furnished 
by  the  movements  of  the  planets. 

In  human  affairs,  arguments  from  sign  usually  imply  causation; 
but  that  which  is  in  A the  sign  of  one  cause  may  in  B be  the  sign 
of  an  entirely  different  cause,  so  various  is  character,  so  complex  are 
the  motives  of  action. 

“ All  conventional  signs,  — such  as  words,  algebraical  or  arith- 
metical symbols,  money,  signals,  &c.,  — are  effects  of  a common 
design  to  represent  a certain  thing  in  a certain  manner;  by  the 
a.ssumption  of  this  common  cause,  we  construe  all  its  effects.  The 
value  of  the  conventional  sign  depends  upon  the  recognition  of  a 
common  cause. 

“ When  an  effect  has  only  one  cause,  we  reason  conclusively  from 
the  occurrence  of  the  effect  to  the  occurrence  of  the  cause.  When 
a young  bird  has  been  produced,  we  know  that  it  has  been  hatched 
from  an  egg.  But  when  an  effect  has  several  possible  causes,  /the 
existence  of  the  effect  only  proves  the  occui-rence  of  some  one  of 
those  causes.  Thus,  many  plants  can  be  propagated  in  more  than 
one  way,  instead  of  being,  like  animals,  confined  to  a single  mode 


200 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


of  reproduction ; and  therefore,  when  we  see  a young  plant,  we  may 
he  uncertain  whether  it  has  been  grown  from  a seed,  from  a cutting, 
from  a layer,  from  a bud,  or  in  some  other  way. 

“ This  mode  of  reasoning  may  be  illustrated  by  the  anecdote  of  a 
man  shipwrecked  on  an  unknown  coast,  who,  on  seeing  a dead 
body  hanging  from  a gibbet  expressed  his  joy  that  he  W’as  in  a 
civilized  country.  If  the  dead  body  indicated  a capital  execution 
and  a regular  administration  of  justice,  the  inference  is  a just  one, 
inasmuch  as,  without  civilization,  such  a state  of  things  could  not 
exist.  No  other  cause  was  adequate  to  its  production. 

“A  similar  argument  is  employed  by  the  Church  of  Rome, 
which  lays  down  certain  notes  or  marls  of  the  true  church.  These 
marks  are  assumed  by  the  Roman  divines  to  be  the  effects  of  the 
divine  origin  of  their  church,  and  to  be  referable  to  no  other  cause. 
If  they  could  have  been  the  effects  of  any  other  cause,  the  argument 
would  be  inconclusive.”  ^ 

Every  argument  based  on  testimony  is  based  on  an 
argument  from  Sign,  the  existence  of  the  testi- 
mentfrom  montj  being  a sign  of  the  truth  of  the  matter 

Testimony.  • n o i • e 

testified  to ; for  the  inierence  irom  testimony 
to  fact  could  not  be  drawn  at  all,  were  there  not  a 
general  probability  that  men  will  say  what  they  believe 
to  be  true  rather  than  what  they  believe  to  be  false. 

This  general  probability,  though  it  constitutes  the 
ground  for  the  admission  of  testimony,  does  not  furnish 
a reason  why  we  should  yield  credence  to  the  testi- 
mony given  in  a particular  case.  There  is,  indeed, 
great  practical  difficulty  in  determining  in  what  cases 
the  inference  from  testimony  to  fact  is  true,  and  in 
what  cases  it  is  false. 

“ If  we  were  able  to  affirm  a proposition,  ‘ All  men  upon  all  oc- 
casions speak  the  truth,’  the  remaining  propo.sitions,  — ‘ This  man 
says  so  and  so,’  ‘ Therefore  it  is  true,’  — would  present  no  difficulty. 
The  major  premise,-  however,  is  subject  to  wide  exceptions. 

1 Lewis  : Methods  of  Observation  and  Reasoning  in  Politics,  vol.  i.  chap.  i.x. 
sect.  xiv.  2 See  p.  191. 


Chap.  II.]  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS 


201 


“ The  grounds  for  believing  or  disbelieving  particular  statements 
made  by  particular  people  under  particular  circumstances,  may  be 
brought  under  three  heads,  — tho,se  which  affect  the  power  of  the 
witness  to  speak  the  truth;  those  which  affect  his  will  to  do  so;  and 
those  which  arise  from  the  nature  of  the  statement  itself  and  from 
surrounding  circumstances.”  ^ 

Of  two  equally  honest  eye-witnesses  of  some  sim2)le 
occurrence,  one  may  possess  superior  habits 

• * • T^ifTt^rciiccs 

of  observation  which  enable  him  to  see  a among 

witnesses 

thing  more  clearly  than  the  other,  or  superior 
knowledge  wliich  enables  him  to  understand  it  better, 
or  superior  powers  of  statement  which  enable  him  to 
make  others  understand  it  better,  or  a siqierior  judg- 
ment which  enables  him  to  draw  more  correct  inferences 
from  what  he  sees.  Even  in  the  sinqdest  matters  that 
are  presented  to  the  senses,  it  is  next  to  impossible  to 
report  all  that  the  senses  perceive,  and  only  that ; for 
even  intelligent  persons  confound  perceptions  with  judg- 
ments, and  assertion  Avith  inference. 

Hence  it  would  seem  that  too  much  stress  is  often 
laid  on  the  distinction  between  matters  of 
fact  and  matters  of  opinion,  — since  opinion  [“fttcre  of 
enters  into  almost  all  statements  with  regard 
to  matters  of  hict;  since  the  instant  an  individual  fact  is 
doubted  upon  reasonable  grounds  its  existence  becomes . 
matter  of  o})inion  ; and  since  doubtful  matters  are  those 
Avith  Avhich  argumentative  composition  chiefly  deals. 

‘‘A  matter  of  fact  is:  (1)  Every  thing  capable  of  being  per- 
ceived by  the  senses;  (2)  Every  mental  condition  of  which  any 
person  is  conscious.”^ 

“ By  a matter  of  fact  I understand  any  thing  of  which  Ave  ob- 
tain a conviction  froTii  our  internal  consciousness,  or  any  individual 

^ Stephen  : Introduction  to  Indian  Evidence  Act,  chap.  ii. 

* Ibid.;  Digest  of  tlie  Law  of  Evidence  (second  edition),  art.  i. 


202 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  IL 


event  or  plienomeiiou  vhicli  is  the  object  of  sensation.  It  is  true 
that  even  the  simplest  sensations  involve  some  judgment:  when  a 
witness  reports  that  he  saw  an  object  of  a certain  shape  and  size, 
or  at  a certain  distance,  he  describes  something  more  than  a mere 
impression  on  his  sense  of  sight,  and  his  statement  implies  a theory 
and  explanation  of  the  bare  phenomenon.  When,  however,  this 
judgment  is  of  so  simple  a kind  as  to  become  wholly  unconscious, 
and  the  interpretation  of  the  appearances  is  a matter  of  general 
agreement,  the  object  of  sensation  may,  for  our  present  purpose,  be 
considered  a fact.  A fact,  as  so  defined,  must  be  limited  to  indi- 
vidual sensible  objects,  and  not  extended  to  general  expressions  or 
formulas,  descriptive  of  classes  of  facts,  or  sequences  of  phenomena, 
such  as  that  the  blood  circulates,  the  sun  attracts  the  planets,  and 
the  like.  Propositions  of  this  sort,  though  descriptive  of  realities, 
and  therefoi’e,  in  one  sense,  of  matters  of  fact,  relate  to  large  classes 
of  phenomena,  which  cannot  be  grasped  by  a single  sensation,  which 
can  only  be  determined  by  a long  series  of  observations,  and  are  es- 
tablished by  a process  of  intricate  reasoning.  . . . 

“ IMatters  of  opinion,  not  being  disputed  questions  of  fact,  are 
general  propositions  or  theorems  relating  to  law's  of  Nature  or  mind, 
pi'inciples  and  rules  of  human  conduct,  futm’e  probabilities,  deduc- 
tions from  hypotheses,  and  the  like,  about  which  a doubt  may  rea- 
sonably exist.  All  doubtful  questions,  whether  of  speculation  or 
practice,  are  matters  of  opinion.  With  regard  to  these,  the  ulti- 
mate source  of  our  belief  is  always  a process  of  reasoning.  ’ ’ ^ 

The  real  distinction  is  between  matters  into  which 
fact  most  largely  enters,  and  those  into  which  opinion 
most  largely  enters ; for,  though  the  honesty  of  a wit- 
ness is  hardly  ever  the  only  thing  to  be  considered  in 
determining  the  value  of  his  testimony,  yet  in  some 
classes  of  questions  his  intellectual  character  tells  for 
much  more  than  in  others. 

In  a case  of  shoplifting,  the  testimony  of  a clerk  that 
he  saw  the  accused  lay  hands  upon  the  stolen  goods,  or 
of  a police  officer  that  he  found  them  upon  the  person 

1 G.  C.  Lewis  : On  the  Influence  of  Authority  in  Matters  of  Opinion,  chap.  i. 


Chap.  II.J  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUiMENTS. 


203 


of  the  accused,  may,  in  the  absence  of  testimony  to  tlie 
contrary,  suffice  for  conviction ; ^ but  in  a difficult 
patent  case,  an  expert  ^ may  be  the  only  valuable  wit- 
ness as  to  any  of  the  important  facts  in  issue. 

It  is,  however,  to  be  noted  that  the  value  of  the  testi- 
mony of  experts  is  sometimes  impaired  by  xestimonyof 
their  prejudices.  A specialist  is  in  danger  of  experts, 
looking  at  a fact  through  the  distorting  glasses  of  a 
theory ; of  taking  a professional  in  preference  to  an 
obvious  view ; and  sometimes,  it  is  to  be  feared,  of  un- 
fairly discrediting  discoveries  made  by  a rival.  Hence, 
at  most  trials  at  which  such  testimony  is  introduced,  — 
whether  the  question  relates  to  a prisoner’s  sanity,  to 
the  genuineness  of  a piece  of  handwriting,  or  to  the 
infringement  of  a patent,  — experts  are  called  on  each 
side  of  the  question.^ 

Where  a witness  testifies  against  his  oivn  prejudices  or 
interests,  the  value  of  his  testimony,  whether 
as  to  matters  of  fact  or  as  to  matters  of  opin-  mKies\'^ied°^ 

. . . 1 T-i  1 testimony. 

ion,  IS  increased,  h or  example  : — 

Tlie  testimony  of  one  of  two  pliysicians  belonging  to  different 
schools  of  medicine  to  a wonderful  cm-e  by  the  other;  the  testi- 
mony of  a candidate  for  office  to  the  ability  or  integrity  of  his 
opponent;  the  testimony  of  a disbeliever  in  “the  Darwinian 
theory  ’ ’ to  facts  that  go  to  support  that  theory ; testimony  against 
the  best  friend  of  the  witness,  or  in  favor  of  his  greatest  enemy; 
testimony  to  the  existence  of  a will  the  effect  of  which  is  to 
disinherit  the  witness;  all  testimony  given  unwillingly,  or  by  a 
witness  who  is  hostile  to  the  conclusion  which  he  undesignedly 
supports. 

1 Not  always,  however;  see  Memoir  of  Lord  Abinger,  p.  191. 

2 That  is,  “a  person  specially  skilled  in  any  subject  on  which  a course  oJ 
special  study  or  experience  is  necessary  to  the  fonnationof  an  opinion.”  Stephen* 
Digest  of  the  Law  of  Evidence,  art.  xlix. 

8 See,  however,  p.  “207. 


204 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


Undesigned  testimony  is  strong,  because  it  precludes 
the  suspicion  of  fabrication.  The  more  ineidental  the 
point  thus  established,  the  more  oblique  an  allusion, 
the  less  the  likelihood  of  a falsehood ; for  a liar  takes 
most  pains  with  the  most  important  parts  of  his  story, 
but  a man  of  veracity  passes  rapidly  over  things  which 
seem  to  him  things  of  course.  It  matters  not  how  tri- 
fling a circumstance  is  if  it  is  a link  in  a ehain  of  evi- 
dence ; as  it  matters  not  on  what  absurd  principle  a 
cipher  is  constructed,  if  it  is  a cipher. 

A skilful  forgery  is  detected  by  minute  inspection ; a mutilated 
body  has  been  identified  by  the  peculiar  shape  of  the  teeth ; a mur- 
derer has  been  tracked  by  the  position  and  number  of  the  nails 
in  his  shoe.  Swift  ridiculed  the  attempt  to  convict  Bishop  Atter- 
bury  of  treasonable  correspondence,  by  evidence  drawn  from  his 
allusions  to  a lame  lap-dog;  but  the  real  question  was,  not  whether 
the  lap-dog  was  important  in  itself,  but  wdiether  it  did  or  did  not 
stand  for  the  Pretender. 

An  incidental  allusion  may  serve  to  establish  a his- 
torical fact,  not  only  as  a fact,  but  as  a fact 
sions  to  iis-  about  wliicli  there  was  no  dispute  at  the  time 

torical  facts.  , , , 

the  allusion  was  made. 

“ The  account  given  by  Herodotus  of  Xerxes’s  cutting  a canal 
through  the  isthmus  of  Athos,  which  is  ridiculed  by  Juvenal,  is 
much  more  strongly  attested  by  Thucydides  in  an  incidental  men- 
tion of  a place  ‘ near  which  some  remains  of  the  canal  might  be 
seen,’  than  if  he  had  distinctly  recorded  his  conviction  of  the  truth 
of  the  narrative.”  ^ 

‘ ‘ As  an  advocate  was  pleading  the  cause  of  his  client  before 
one  of  the  praetors,  he  could  only  produce  a single  witness  in  a 
point  where  the  law  required  the  testimony  of  two  persons ; upon 
which  the  advocate  insisted  on  the  integrity  of  that  person  whom 
he  had  produced;  but  the  praetor  told  him  that  where  the  law  re- 
quired two  witnesses  he  wmuld  not  accept  of  one,  though  it  were 


1 Whatoly:  part  i.  chap.  ii.  sect.  iv. 


Chap.  II.]  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


205 


Cato  hiniself.  Such  a speech  from  a person  who  sat  at  the  head  of 
a court  of  justice,  while  Cato  was  still  living,  shows  us,  more  than 
a thousand  examples,  the  high  reputation  this  man  had  gained 
among  his  contemporaries  upon  the  account  of  his  sincerity.”  ^ 

“ Achilles,  we  are  told,  wept  while  the  funeral  pile  he  had 
erected  was  burning,  all  night  long,  the  hones  of  Patroclos,  ‘ as  a 
father  weeps  when  he  bui'ns  the  bones  of  his  youthful  son  ’ (Iliad, 
xxiii.  222-225).  This  testifies  to  a general  practice.”  ^ 

Silence  may  tend  to  j)rove  the  non-existence  of  a fact 
in  issue,  the  strength  of  the  argument  varying  Argument 
with  the  amount  of  probability  that  the  thing  «'*ence. 
in  question  would  have  been  mentioned,  had  it  existed. 

The  omission  from  an  inventory  of  all  reference  to  a valuable 
piece  of  property  may,  where  the  other  evidence  is  conflicting, 
determine  the  question  of  ownership. 

“The  negative  evidence  of  a man  saying,  ‘I  never  heard  any 
thing  against  the  character  of  the  person  of  whose  character  I come 
to  speak,’  . . . is  the  most  cogent  evidence  of  a man’s  good  char- 
acter and  reputation.”  ® 

Under  this  head.  Archbishop  Mliately  argues,  from  the  alleged 
absence  of  records  or  traditions  to  that  effect,  that  no  savage  tribe 
ever  civilized  itself.  There  are  facts  (traditions  among  the  Chinese, 
for  examjile)  which  make  against  this  assertion;  but  if  there  were 
no  such  facts,  one  might  maintain,  in  opposition  to  Whately,  that 
savages  would  be  much  more  impressed  by  a change  supposed  to  be 
wrought  by  a supernu-cural  agency  than  by  one  which  they  had 
slowly  and  gradually  worked  out  for  themselves ; and  w'ould,  there- 
fore, be  more  likely  to  have  records  or  traditions  in  the  former  case 
than  in  the  latter. 

Every  additional  witness  testifying  independently  to 
the  same  fact  adds  to  the  probability  of  its  concurrent 
truth  ; not  only  because  he  is  an  additional 
witness,  but  also  because,  in  cases  in  which  there  could 

1 Addison,  in  The  Spectator,  No.  557. 

2 Gladstone : Preface  to  Schliemann’s  Mycena;. 

® Chief  Justice  Cockburn,  in  Cox’s  Criminal  Case.s,  p.  31 


20G 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


have  been  no  previous  concert,  it  is  more  likely  that 
the  fact  testified  to  should  have  existed  than  that  the 
agreement  in  the  testimony  should  be  accidental.  Every 
additional  witness,  moreover,  enlarges  the  surface  ex- 
posed to  attack,  that  is,  increases  the  likelihood  that  he 
would  be  impeached  if  he  could  be. 

A similar  argument  may  be  drawn  from  concurrent 
circumstances. 

One  may  argue  that  in  a lotteiy  there  are  as  many  chances  of  a 
prize  as  there  are  of  a blank,  and  so  there  are  as  between  a prize 
and  anij  one  blank ; but  if  there  are  twenty  blanks  and  one  prize, 
every  ticket-holder  has  only  one  chance  in  twenty-one  of  drawing 
the  prize,  since  each  of  the  twenty  blanks  creates  one  chance  against 
the  prize. 

The  apparent  footprints  found  by  Robinson  Crusoe  on  the  sand 
might  possibly  have  been  made  by  the  fortuitous  action  of  the 
waves;  but  the  probability  that  the  sand  should  have  arranged 
itself  in  this  way  rather  than  in  any  other  one  of  numerous  possible 
ways  is  very  small,  as  compared  with  the  probability  that  the  marks 
were  made  by  a human  foot. 

In  all  cases  in  which  there  are  some  arguments  on 
each  side  of  a question  we  compare  the  alternatives, 
and  decide  according  to  the  preponderance  of  probabili- 
Preponder-  ties.  Positivc  Certainty  in  practical  matters 
abfiiUes.^’™*^  wc  iicver  attain ; but  a reasonable  probabil- 
ity sufficiently  strong  to  act  upon  is  often  within  our 
reach. 

“Whether  any  higher  degree  of  assurance  is  conceivable  than 
that  which  may  easily  be  obtained  of  the  facts  that  the  earth  re- 
volves round  the  sun,  and  that  Delhi  was  besieged  and  taken  by 
the  English  in  1857,  is  a question  which  does  not  belong  to  this 
inquiry.  For  all  practical  purposes  such  conclusions  as  these  may 
be  described  as  absolutely  certain.  From  these  down  to  the  faint- 
est guess  about  the  inhabitants  of  the  stars,  and  the  faintest  suspi- 
cion that  a particular  person  has  committed  a crime,  there  is  a 


Chap.  II.]  TIIEEE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


207 


descending  scale  of  probabilities  ■which  does  not  admit  of  any  but 
a very  rough  measurement  for  practical  pui’poses.  The  only  point 
in  it  worth  noticing  is  what  is  commonly  called  moral  certainty ; and 
this  means  simply  such  a degree  of  probability  as  a prudent  man 
would  act  upon  under  the  circumstances  in  which  he  happens  to  be 
placed  in  reference  to  the  matter  of  which  he  is  said  to  be  morally 
certain.”  ^ 

Tlie  argument  from  Sign  derived  from  the  concur- 
rent testimony  of  independent  witnesses, 
must  be  distinguished  from  that  derived 

, . TT  1 1 • • Authority. 

irom  authority.  Unable  to  investigate  every 
question  for  liimself  every  time  it  arises,  a man  must 
accept  the  conclusions  reached  by  others  in  matters  on 
Avhich  they  are  competent  judges,  or  by  himself  on  a 
previous  occasion.  These  conclusions  are  often  the  best 
evidence  within  reach ; they  are  the  conclusions  of  an 
expert."^ 

“ In  questions  of  authority  I believe  a matter  of  opinion,  because 
it  is  believed  by  a person  whom  I consider  a competent  judge  of 
the  question.”  ® 

“ Authority  is  the  opinion  of  one  person  upon~a  doubtful  ques- 
tion of  fact,  speculation,  or  practice  accepted  by  another  person  as 
a reason  for  believing  that  which  the  person  fii'st  mentioned  be- 
lieves in  relation  to  such  question.”  ^ 

“ Authority,  in  matters  of  opinion,  divides  itself  (say)  into  three 
principal  classes.  There  is  the  authority  of  witnesses.  They  testify 
to  matters  of  fact:  the  judgment  upon  these  is  commonly  though 
not  always  easy ; but  this  testimony  is  always  the  substitution  of 
the  faculties  of  others  for  our  own,  which,  taken  largely,  consti- 
tutes the  essence  of  authority.  This  is  the  kind  which  we  justly 
admit  with  the  smallest  jealousy.  Yet  not  always:  one  man 
admits,  another  refuses,  the  authority  of  a .“ea-captain  and  a sailor 
nr  two  on  the  existence  of  the  sea-serpent. 

1 Stephen  : Introduction  to  the  Indian  Evidence  Act,  chap.  ii. 

- See  p.  203. 

s Lewis ; On  the  Influence  of  Authority  in  5Iatters  of  Opinion,  chap.  iii. 

Stephen,  in  The  Nineteenth  Century. 


208 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


“ Then  there  is  the  authority  of  judges.  . . . These  judges 
sometimes  supply  us  with  opinions  upon  facts,  sometmies  M'ith 
facts  themselves.  The  results,  in  pure  science,  are  accepted  by 
us  as  facts;  but  on  the  methods  by  which  they  are  reached,  the 
mass,  even  of  intelligent  and  cultivated  men,  are  not  competently 
informed.  Judgments  on  difficult  questions  of  finance  are  made 
into  compulsory  laws,  in  parliaments  where  only  one  man  in  a 
score,  possibly  no  more  than  one  in  a hundred,  thoroughly  com- 
prehends them.  All  kinds  of  professional  advice  belong  to  this 
order  in  the  classification  of  authorities. 

“ But,  thirdly,  as  Lewis  has  observed  with  much  acuteness,  we 
are  in  the  constant  habit  of  following  yet  another  kind  of  authority, 
the  authority  of  ourselves.  In  very  many  cases,  where  we  have 
reached  certain  results  by  our  own  inquiries,  the  process  and  the 
evidence  have  been  forgotten,  and  are  no  longer  present  to  the 
mind  at  times  when  we  are  called  upon  to  act;  they  are  laid  aside 
as  no  longer  necessary ; we  are  satisfied  with  the  knowledge  that 
we  acquired  at  a former  time.  We  now  hold  to  the  conclusion, 
not  remembering  accurately  its  warrant,  but  remembering  only 
that  we  once  decided  that  it  had  a warrant.  In  its  essence,  this  is 
acting  upon  authority.  From  this  sort  of  action  upon  authority  I 
believe  no  man  of  active  life,  however  tenacious  be  his  memory, 
can  escape.  And  no  man  who  is  content  to  act  on  this  kind  of 
authority  is  entitled  to  object  in  principle  to  acting  on  other  kinds. 
. . . We  are  bound  to  act  on  the  best  presumption, ^ whether  that 
presumption  happens  to  rest  on  something  done  by  others,  or  on 
something  we  have  done  ourselves.”  ^ 

A series  of  arguments  from  Sign  may  have  a con- 
Arszuments  tinuouslu  prooressive  tendency  to  establish  a 
Certain  conclusion. 

We  cannot  directly  prove  that  a body  once  set  in  motion  will 
never  stop  unless  it  meets  with  some  impediment;  for  we  cannot 
remove  every  obstacle:  but  if  in  proportion  as  obstacles  are  re- 
moved motion  is  protracted,  we  may  fairly  conclude  that,  if  they 
could  be  altogether  removed,  motion  would  go  on  for  ever. 

The  argument  by  which  the  “development  theory”  is  supported 

1 See  p.  220.  2 Gladstone,  in  The  Nineteenth  Century 


Chap.  II-l  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


209 


by  I’rofessor  Huxley  and  others  is  of  this  class.  Though  the  devel- 
opment of  one  species  into  another  cannot  be  directly  proved,  yet 
if  it  can  be  shown  that  tlie  intermediate  forms  between  two  species 
exhibit,  so  far  as  is  known,  a regularly  progressive  approach  toward 
the  higher  species,  there  is  ground  for  the  inference  that  the  inter- 
mediate forms  would,  if  they  were  all  known,  form  a consecutive 
chain  of  evidence  for  gradual  development. 

Arguments  Irom  Sign  need  to  be  stronger  when  they 
liave  to  overcome  an  antecedent  improbability 
than  when  they  are  supported  by  an  antece-  by  Antecedent 
dent  jirobability.  Probability. 

Those  who  disbelieve  in  the  Christian  miracles  argue  from 
experience  that  it  is  improbable  that  what  science  calls  “the  order 
of  Nature”  should  be  disturbed  by  any  cause;  those  who  believe 
in  the  miracles  maintain  that  there  was  an  adequate  cause  in 
operation  in  each  case. 


SECTION  IV. 

Arguments  from  Example. 

The  Argument  from  Example  springs  from  the  proba- 
bility that  objects  which  resemble  one  another  in  some 
respects,  will  also  resemble  one  another  in  the  point  in 
question. 

A sentence  in  Patrick  Henry’s  famous  speech  contains  an  argu- 
ment from  example:  “ Ciesar  had  his  Brutus,  Charles  the  First 
his  Cromwell,  and  George  the  Third  — may  profit  by  their  exam- 
ple.” Had  he  not  been  interrupted  by  cries  of  “ Treason,”  Henry 
might  possibly  have  brought  out  still  more  plainly  the  argument 
implied  in  the  words  after  the  dash. 

Aristotle  ^ founds  an  argument  against  the  choice  of  magistrate.? 
by  lot  upon  (supposed)  examples  of  the  choice  of  a wrestler  or  of  a 
steersman  by  lot;  since  in  both  cases  the  best  man  would  be,  not 
the  person  on  whom  the  lot  fell,  but  the  person  who  understood 
the  art. 


1 Rhetoric  : book  ii.  chap.  xx. 


210 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  IL 


Real  examples,  such  as  those  cited  by  Patrick  Henry, 
arc  to  be  distinguished  from  invented  exam- 
invented  pies,  such  as  those  quoted  from  Aristotle. 

examples.  . 

The  former,  being  matters  of  fact,  derive 
additional  force  from  the  probability  that  what  has 
happened  once  will  happen  again ; the  strength  of  the 
latter  depends  upon  the  likelihood  that  things  such  as 
are  suiofosed  to  have  happened  ever  did  or  ever  will 
liappen,  — that  is,  upon  their  antecedent  prohahility. 

This  Antecedent  Probability,  it  is  to  be  noted,  is 
itself  drawn  from  observed  facts,  — that  is,  from  real 
examples. 

Aristotle’s  argument  against  the  choice  of  magistrates  by  lot 
derives  its  whole  force  from  common  experience.  Everybody 
knows  that  in  drawing  lots  an  idiot  has  the  same  chances  in  his 
favor  as  a genius;  everybody  knows,  too,  that,  though  starving 
men  may  draw  lots  to  determine  which  one  shall  be  eaten,  men 
at  sea  do  not  trust  chance  to  give  them  the  most  competent  pilot. 
Thus,  though  in  Aristotle’s  argument  the  combination  is  a new  one, 
the  materials  out  of  which  it  is  made  and  which  alone  give  force  to 
the  reasoning  are  not  new. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  an  invented  example  is  ante- 
Fictitious  cedently  improbable,  — that  is,  has  no  basis 
tha“areiiot  experience,  — it  has  no  force  whatever, 
arguments,  p^r  example  : — 

“ The  fable  of  the  counti-yman  who  obtained  from  Jupiter  the 
regulation  of  the  weather,  and  in  consequence  found  his  crops  fail, 
does  not  go  one  step  towards  proving  the  intended  conclusion; 
because  that  consequence  is  a mere  gratuitous  assumption  without 
any  probability  to  support  it.  In  fact  the  assumption  there  is  not 
only  gi-atuitous,  but  is  in  direct  contradiction  to  experience;  for  a 
gardener  has,  to  a certain  degree,  the  command  of  rain  and  sun- 
shine, by  the  help  of  his  watering-pots,  glasses,  hot-beds,  and  flues; 
and  the  result  is  not  the  destruction  of  his  crops. 

“ There  is  an  instance  of  a like  error  in  a tale  of  Cumberland’s, 


Chap.  II.]  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUxMENTS. 


211 


intended  to  prove  the  advantage  of  a public  over  a private  educa- 
tion. He  represents  two  brothers,  educated  on  the  two  plans, 
respectively;  the  former  turning  out  very  well,  and  the  latter  veiy 
ill:  and  had  the  whole  been  matter  of  fact,  a sufficient  number 
of  such  instances  would  have  had  weight  as  an  argument;  but  as 
it  is  a fiction,  and  no  reason  is  shown  why  the  result  should  be 
such  as  represented,  except  the  supposed  superiority  of  a public 
education,  the  argument  involves  a manifest  jKlilio  jyrincipii ; ^ and 
resembles  the  appeal  made,  in  the  well-known  fable,  to  the  picture 
of  a man  conquering  a lion,  — a result  which  might  just  as  easily 
have  been  reversed,  and  which  woidd  have  been  so,  had  lions  been 
painters.”  ^ 

Hence,  the  uselessness  of  attempting  by  a fictitious 
narrative  to  establish  a disputed  proposition.  Fiction 
can  help  us  more  clearly  to  understand  or  more  firmly 
to  hold  what  we  are  already  disposed  to  believe  ; but, 
the  premises  of  fiction  being  arbitrarily  selected,  its 
conclusions  can  be  binding  upon  those  only  who  accept 
the  premises  as  fairly  representing  real  examples. 

The  value  of  arguments  drawn  from  real  examples, 
as  Avell  as  that  of  those  drawn  from  invented 

. T , . A • 1 Real  ex.am- 

ones,  is  gauged  by  experience.  A single  pies  vary  m 
carefully-guarded  experiment  in  natural  sci- 
ence by  a competent  observer  may  be  enough  to  estab- 
lish a general  proposition  ; but  in  human  affairs  several 
observed  instances  are  rarely  enough. 

When  Newton  had  analyzed  one  ray  of  light  into  the  prismatic 
colors,  he  justly  concluded  that  the  same  analysis  would  apply  to 
all  other  rays  of  light. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  would  require  numerous  examples  like 
that  of  Richard  III.  to  establish  an  invariable,  or  even  a usual, 
connection  between  physical  and  moral  deformity.  “ One  man  is 
not  as  exactly  similar  to  another  man,  one  race  of  men  is  not  as 
exactly  similar  to  another  race  of  men , one  political  community  is 

1 See  p.  196.  * Whately : Rhetoric,  part  i.  chap.  ii.  sect.  viii. 

10 


212 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


not  as  exactly  similar  to  another  political  community,  as  one  piece 
of  platinum  is  to  another  piece  of  platinum,  or  as  one  vial  of  oxygen 
is  to  another  vial  of  oxygen.”  ^ 

It  is  important  to  distinguish  examples  which  serve  as 
Argumenta-  arguments  from  those  which  serve  merely  as 
aufstoative  illustrations.  A supposed  case  under  a gen- 
exampies.  principle,  though  it  may  make  the  prin- 

ciple more  intelligible,  has  no  tendency  to  prove  its 
truth ; but  an  example  drawn  from  another  class  of 
cases  is  in  the  nature  of  an  appeal  to  experience,  and 
has,  therefore,  the  force  of  an  argument. 

Cicero’s  proposition  that  nothing  which  is  dishonorable  is  expe- 
dient is  explained,  but  not  established,  by  his  example,  — Themis- 
tocles’s  project  of  burning  the  Spartan  fleet.  This  plan  Cicero,  in 
contradiction  to  Aristides,  maintains  to  be  inexpedient  because 
dishonorable ; but  no  one  who  had  not  already  assented  to  the  gen- 
eral principle  would  be  convinced  of  its  soundness  by  this  example, 
for  the  example  is  merely  the  statement  in  a concrete  foim  of  the 
question  at  issue. ^ 

Roger  Williams,  on  the  other  hand,  presents  a valid  argument 
for  liberty  of  conscience,  when  he  maintains  that  the  civil  author- 
ities have  no  more  right  to  command  over  the  souls  and  consciences 
of  their  subjects  than  the  master  of  a ship  has  over  those  of  his 
passengers  or  the  sailors  under  him,  “ although  he  may  justly  see 
to  the  labor  of  the  one,  and  the  civil  behavior  of  all  in  the  ship.”  ® 

Another  example  may  be  taken  from  the  preface  to  M.  Taine’s 
“ Ancien  Regime,”  in  which  the  author  argues  from  the  analogy 
between  a house  and  a national  constitution ; — 

“ Peremptory  advisers  constructed  a constitution  as  if  it  were  a 
house,  according  to  the  most  attractive,  the  newest,  and  the  simplest 
plan,  holding  up  for  consideration  the  mansion  of  a marquis,  the 
domicile  of  a bourgeois,  a tenement  for  workmen,  barracks  for 
soldiers,  the  communist  phalanstery,  and  even  a camp  for  savages. 
Each  one  asserted  of  his  model:  ‘ This  is  the  true  abode  of  man, 

1 Lewis : Methods  in  Politics,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xv.  sect.  i. 

* Cicero : De  Officiis,  iii.  xi.  vii. 

* The  Bloody  Tenet  of  Persecution  Discussed,  chap,  cxxxii. 


Chap.  II.J  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


213 


the  only  one  a man  of  sense  can  dwell  in.’  In  my  opinion,  the 
argument  was  weak;  personal  fancies,  in  ray  judgment,  are  not 
authorities.  ...  A people,  on  being  consulted,  may,  indeed,  tell 
the  form  of  government  they  like,  but  not  the  form  they  need; 
this  is  possible  only  through  experience;  time  is  required  to  ascer- 
tain if  the  political  dwelling  is  convenient,  durable,  proof  against 
inclemencies,  suited  to  the  occupant’s  habits,  pursuits,  character, 
peculiarities,  and  caprices.  Now,  as  proof  of  this,  we  have  never 
been  content  with  our  own ; within  eighty  years  we  have  pulled  it 
down  thirteen  times  in  order  to  rebuild  it,  and  this  we  have  done 
in  vain,  not  having  yet  found  one  that  suits  us.”  ^ 

Analogy^  one  of  the  most  common  forms  of  the  argu- 
ment from  example,  is  defined  by  Archbishop  Arguments 
Whately,  in  conformity  with  the  primitive  de'fined'by^^ ' 
meaning  given  to  it  by  mathematicians,  as  byMm.^’ 

“ a resemblance  of  ratios,”  — the  reasoning,  on  this  the- 
ory, being  drawn,  not  from  a direct  resemblance  be- 
tween the  two  things  compared,  but  from  a resemblance 
in  the  relation  they  bear  to  certain  other  things. 

“ Thus  an  egg  and  a seed  are  not  in  themselves  alike,  but  bear 
a like  relation  to  the  parent  bird  and  to  her  future  nestling,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  to  the  old  and  young  plant  on  the  other,  respec- 
tively; this  relation  being  the  genus  which  both  fall  under;  and 
many  arguments  might  be  drawn  from  this  analogy.”^ 

Whately,  however,  admits  that,  in  the  language  of 
eminent  writers  as  well  as  in  that  of  common  speech. 
Analogy  is  used  in  a much  wider  sense.  This  sense  is 
more  accurately  expressed  in  Mill’s  definition,  which 
extends  the  name  of  analogical  evidence  to  arguments 
drawn  from  any  sort  of  resemblances,  provided  they 
do  not  amount  to  a complete  induction.® 

“ Analogy  agrees  with  induction  in  this,  that  they  both  argue 
that  a thing  known  to  resemble  another  in  certain  circumstances 

1 Taine ; The  Ancient  {Anckn]  Regime ; Preface.  Translation  of  John  Dnrand. 

* Whately:  Rhetoric,  part  i.  cliap.  ii.  sect.  vii.  * See  p.  189. 


214 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Boon  IL 


(call  those  circumstances  A and  B)  -will  resemble  it  in  another  cir- 
cumstance (call  it  C).  But  the  difference  is  that  in  induction  A 
and  B are  known,  by  a previous  comparison  of  many  instances,  to 
he  tlie  very  cii'cumstances  on  which  C depends,  or  with  which  it  is 
some  way  connected.  "When  this  has  not  been  ascertained,  the  argu- 
ment amounts  only  to  this,  that,  since  it  is  not  known  with  which 
of  the  cireumstances  existing  in  the  known  ca.se  C is  connected, 
they  may  as  well  be  A and  B as  any  others ; and  therefore  there  is 
a greater  probability  of  C in  cases  where  we  know  that  A and 
B exist,  than  in  cases  of  which  we  know  notliing  at  all.  This 
argument  is  of  a weight  very  difficult  to  estimate  at  all,  and  im- 
possible to  estimate  precisely.  It  may  be  very  strong,  when 
the  known  points  of  agreement,  A and  B &c.,  are  numerous, 
and  the  known  points  of  difference  few ; or  very  weak,  when  the 
reverse  is  the  case:  but  it  can  never  be  equal  in  validity  to  a real 
induction.”  ^ 

One  of  Mill’s  examples  renders  his  meaning  plain.  From  the 
fact  that  there  are  numerous  resemblances  between  the  earth  and 
the  other  planets,  it  might  be  inferred  that  the  latter  are  inhab- 
ited because  the  former  is.  Now,  if  the  existence  of  human  beings 
could  be  proved  to  depend  upon  one  or  more  of  these  points  of 
resemblance,  to  be  the  effect  of  this  or  that  cause  wdiich  is  in  opera- 
tion on  the  other  planets  as  well  as  on  the  earth,  or  if  it  could  be 
proved  that  the  presence  of  human  beings  is  the  effect  of  some 
circumstance  not  common  to  the  other  planets  and  the  earth,  the 
argument  drawm  from  such  facts  of  causation  w'ould  in  each  case 
be  of  an  inductive  character. 

So  long,  however,  as  we  do  not  know  what  the  conditions  of  life 
are,  “ they  may  be  connected  by  some  law  of  Nature  with  those 
common  properties;  and  to  the  extent  of  that  possibility  the 
planets  are  more  likely  to  be  inhabited  than  if  they  did  not  resem- 
ble the  earth  at  all.  This  non-assignable  and  generally  small  in- 
crease of  probability,  beyond  what  would  otherwise  exist,  is  all 
the  evidence  which  a conclusion  can  derive  from  analogy.  For  if 
we  have  the  slightest  reason  to  suppose  any  real  connection  between 
the  two  properties  A and  B,  the  argument  is  no  longer  one  of 
analogy.  If  it  had  been  ascertained  (I  purposely  put  an  absurd 
supposition)  that  there  was  a connection  by  causation  between 

1 Mill ; Three  Essays  on  Religion,  part  i.  pp.  168,  150. 


CiiAi-.  II.]  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


215 


the  fact  of  revolving  on  an  axis  and  the  existence  of  animated 
beings,  oi'  if  there  were  any  reasonable  ground  for  even  suspecting 
such  a connection,  a probability  w'ould  arise  of  the  existence  of 
inhabitants  in  the  planets,  which  might  be  of  any  degree  of 
strength,  up  to  a complete  induction;  but  we  should  then  infer 
the  fact  from  the  ascertained  or  presumed  law  of  causation,  and 
not  from  the  analogy  of  the  earth.”  ^ 

Arguments  from  Analogy  are  valid  when  confined 
to  tlie  i)oint  of  resemblance,  and  allowed  no 
more  than  tlieir  just  weight;  hut  they  are 
often  used  as  if  a resemblance  between  two  things  in 
one  point  meant  a resemblance  in  points  in  which  they 
really  differ,  or  as  if  a superficial  and  partial  resemblance 
implied  a complete  and  fundamental  one  dependent 
on  a common  cause : the  analogy  is  either  false,  or  it 
is  treated  as  if  it  amounted  to  an  induction.  The  fol- 
lowing are  examples  of  false  analogies : — 

“‘If,’  they  say,  ‘free  competition  is  a good  thing  in  trade,  it 
must  surely  be  a good  thing  in  education.  The  supply  of  other 
commodities  — of  sugar,  for  example — is  left  to  adjust  itself  to 
the  demand;  and  the  consequence  is,  that  we  are  better  supplied 
wdth  sugar  tlian  if  the  Government  undertook  to  supply  us.  Why, 
then,  sliould  we  doubt  that  the  supply  of  instruction  will,  with- 
out the  intervention  of  the  Government,  be  found  equal  to  the 
demand  ? ’ 

“ Never  was  there  a more  false  analogy.  Whether  a man  is 
well  supplied  witli  sugar  is  a matter  which  concerns  liimself  alone. 
But  whether  he  is  w'ell  supplied  with  instruction  is  a matter  which 
concerns  his  neighbors  and  the  State.  If  he  cannot  afford  to  pay 
for  sugar,  he  must  go  without  sugar.  But  it  is  by  no  means  fit 
that,  because  lie  cannot  afford  to  pay  for  education,  he  should  go 
without  education.  Between  the  rich  and  their  instructors  there 
may,  as  Adam  Smith  says,  be  free  trade.  Tlie  supply  of  music 
masters  and  Italian  masters  may  be  left  to  adjust  itself  to  the 
demand.  But  what  is  to  become  of  the  millions  who  are  too  poor 


1 Mill : Logic,  book  v.  chap.  v.  sect.  vi. 


216 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


to  procure  without  assistance  the  services  of  a decent  school- 
master? ” 1 

It  is  argued  that  “a  great  and  permanent  diminution  in  the 
quantity  of  some  useful  commodity,  such  as  corn,  or  coal,  or  iron, 
throughout  the  world,  would  be  a serious  and  lasting  loss;  and  that 
if  the  fields  and  coal-mines  yielded  regularly  double  qrrantities, 
with  the  same  labor,  we  should  be  so  much  the  richer:  hence  it 
might  be  inferred  that,  if  the  quantity  of  gold  and  silver  in  the 
world  were  diminished  one-half,  or  were  doubled,  like  results  would 
follow,  the  utility  of  these  metals,  for  the  purposes  of  coin,  being 
very  great.  Now  there  are  many  points  of  resemblance,  and  many 
of  difference,  between  the  precious  metals  on  the  one  hand,  and 
corn,  coal,  &c.  on  the  other;  but  the  important  circumstance  to  the 
supposed  argument  is  that  the  utility  of  gold  and  silver  (as  coin, 
which  is  far  the  chief)  depends  on  their  value,  which  is  regulated  by 
their  scarcity, — or  rather,  to  speak  strictly,  by  the  difficulty  of 
obtaining  them,  whereas,  if  corn  and  coal  were  ten  times  more 
abundant  (z.  e.  more  easily  obtained) , a bushel  of  either  would  still 
be  as  useful  as  now.  But  if  it  were  twice  as  easy  to  procure  gold 
as  it  is,  a sovereign  w’ould  be  twice  as  large ; if  only  half  as  easjq 
it  would  be  of  the  size  of  a half-sovereign:  and  this  (besides  the 
trifling  circumstance  of  the  cheapness  or  dearness  of  gold  orna- 
ments) would  be  all  the  difference.  The  analogy,  therefore,  fails 
in  the  point  essential  to  the  argument.”  * 

“ Because  a just  analogy  has  been  discerned  between  the  me- 
tropolis of  a country,  and  the  heart  of  the  animal  body,  it  has  been 
sometimes  contended  that  its  increased  size  is  a disease,  — that  it 
may  impede  some  of  its  most  important  functions,  or  even  be  the 
cause  of  its  dissolution.”  ® 

‘‘Another  example  is  the  not  uncommon  dictum  that  bodies 
politic  have  youth,  maturity,  old  age,  and  death,  like  bodies  natu- 
ral ; that  after  a certain  duration  of  prosperity  they  tend  spontane- 
ously to  decaj’^.  This  also  is  a false  analogy,  because  the  decay  of 
the  vital  pow-ers  in  an  animated  body  can  be  distinctly  traced  to 
the  natui'al  progress  of  those  veiy  changes  of  structure  which,  in 

' Macaulay,  in  the  House  of  Commons ; Trevelyan’s  Selections,  p.  448. 
See  also  Matthew  Arnold  : Essays  in  Criticism,  p.  451. 

^ Whately  : Rhetoric,  part  i.  chap.  ii.  sect.  vii. 

3 Bishop  Copleston  : Inquiry  into  the  Doctrines  of  Necessity  and  Pre- 
destination, note  to  Discourse  iii. ; quoted  by  Whately. 


Chap.  II.]  THREE  CLASSES  OF  ARGUMENTS. 


217 


their  earlier  stages,  constitute  its  growth  to  maturity;  while  in 
the  body  politic  the  progress  of  those  changes  can  not,  generally 
speaking,  have  any  effect  but  the  still  further  continuance  of 
growth:  it  is  the  stoppage  of  that  progress,  and  the  commence- 
ment of  retrogression,  that  alone  w^ould  constitute  decay.  Hodies 
politic  die,  but  it  is  of  disease,  oi-  violent  death;  they  have  no  old 
age.”  1 

A false  analogy  has  been  made  the  basis  of  an  argument  in  favor 
of  despotic  government.  It  has  been  likened  to  the  government 
exercised  by  a father  over  his  children,  a government  which  it 
resembles  only  in  its  irresponsibility,  that  is,  in  the  fact  that  it  is 
a despotism;  whereas  the  beneficial  working  of  paternal  govern- 
ment depends,  when  real,  not  on  its  irresponsibility,  but  “on  two 
other  circumstances  of  the  case,  — the  affection  of  the  parent  for  the 
children  and  the  superiority  of  the  parent  in  wisdom  and  experi- 
ence.” ^ The  argument  from  this  false  analogy  is  usually  summed 
up  in  the  convenient  phrase,  “paternal  government,” — the  fallacy 
lurking  in  the  woi'd  paternal,'^  a w’ord  which  may  refer  to  the  powder 
of  a father  or  to  his  power  judiciously  exercised;  it  may  mean  like 
a father  or  like  a good  and  wise  father. 

The  error  which  consists  in  overrating  the  probative 
force  of  arguments  from  analogy  is  said  to  be  pancifui 
“ the  characteristic  intellectual  vice  of  those  Analogies, 
whose  imaginations  are  barren,  either  from  want  of 
exercise,  natural  defect,  or  the  narrowness  of  their 
range  of  ideas.” 

“ To  such  minds  objects  present  themselves  clothed  in  but  few 
properties;  and  as,  therefore,  few  analogies  between  one  object 
and  another  occur  to  them,  they  almost  invariably  overrate  the 
degree  of  impoidance  of  those  few;  while  one  whose  fancy  takes 
a wider  range  perceives  and  remembers  so  many  analogies  tend- 
ing to  conflicting  conclusions,  that  he  is  much  less  likely  to  lay 
undue  stress  on  any  of  thorn.  We  always  find  that  those  are  the 
greatest  slaves  to  metaphorical  language  who  have  but  one  set  of 
metaphors.”  * 

1 Mill : Logic,  book  v.  chap.  v.  sect.  vi. 

2 See  p.  71.  ® Mill:  Logic,  book  v.  chap.  v.  sect.  vi. 


218 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


It  may,  on  tlie  other  hand,  be  suggested  that  one 
who  sees  many  analogies  is  in  danger  of  mistaking  fan- 
ciful for  real  ones,  of  making  a mere  metaphor  do  duty 
as  an  argument.  Ruskin  is  a striking  instance  in  point ; 
and  Mill  himself  cites  Bacon  as  being  “ equally  con- 
spicuous in  the  use  and  abuse  of  figurative  illustra- 
tion.” ^ Such  is  also  Macaulay’s  opinion. 

“ The  truth  is,  that  his  [Bacon’s]  mind  was  wonderfully  quick 
in  perceiving  analogies  of  all  sorts.  But,  like  several  eminent  men 
whom  we  could  name,  both  living  and  dead,  he  sometimes  appeared 
strangely  deficient  in  the  power  of  distinguishing  rational  from  fan- 
ciful analogies,  — analogies  which  are  arguments  from  analogies 
which  are  mere  illustrations,  — analogies  like  that  which  Bishop 
Butler  so  ably  pointed  out  between  natural  and  revealed  religion, 
from  analogies  like  that  which  Addison  discovered  between  the 
series  of  Grecian  gods  carved  by  Phidias  and  the  series  of  English 
kings  painted  by  Kneller.  This  want  of  discrimination  has  led  to 
many  strange  political  speculations.  Sir  William  Temple  deduced 
a theory  of  government  from  the  properties  of  the  pyramid.  IVIr. 
Southey’s  whole  system  of  finance  is  grounded  on  the  phenomena 
of  evaporation  and  rain.  In  theology,  this  perverted  ingenuity  has 
made  still  wilder  work.  From  the  time  of  Irenaeus  and  Origen, 
down  to  the  present  day,  there  has  not  been  a single  generation  in 
V'hich  great  divines  have  not  been  led  into  the  most  absurd  ex- 
positions of  Scripture  by  mere  incapacity  to  distinguish  analogies 
proper  (to  use  the  scholastic  phrase)  from  analogies  metaphorical.”  * 

1 Mill:  Logic,  book  v.  chap.  v.  sect.  vi. 

2 Macaulay:  Essays;  B.acon. 


Chap.  Ill  ] BURDEN  OF  PROOF  AND  PRESUMPTION.  219 


CHAPTER  III. 

BURDEN  OP  PROOF  AND  PRESUMPTION. 

Before  determining  in  what  order  to  present  his 
arguments,  a reasoner  should  know  which  Burden  of 
side  is  bound  tO'  prove  tlie  proposition  in  Proof  defined. 
dis])ute ; upon  which  side,  in  other  words,  rests  the 
Burden  of  Proof. 

The  general  rule,  in  courts  of  law,  on  this  subject 
is  embodied  in  the  maxim  that  “ he  who  affirms  must 
prove.” 

“ AVTioever  desires  any  Coiu't  to  give  judgment  as  to  any  legal 
l ight  or  liability  dependent  on  the  existence  or  non-existence  of 
facts  ■which  he  asserts  or  denies  to  exist,  must  prove  that  those 
facts  do  or  do  not  exist.  ’ ’ ^ 

“ The  burden  of  proof  as  to  any  particular  fact  lies  on  that  per- 
son who  wishes  the  Court  to  believe  in  its  existence,  unless  it  is 
provided  by  any  law  that  the  burden  of  proving  that  fact  shall  lie 
on  any  particular  person. 

“ A prosecutes  B for  theft,  and  wishes  the  Court  to  believe  that 
B admitted  the  theft  to  C.  A must  prove  the  admission. 

“ B wishes  the  Court  to  believe  that,  at  the  time  in  question,  he 
was  elsewhere.  He  must  prove  it.” 

The  principle  of  this  legal  maxim  applies  to  argu- 
mentative composition.  One  who  would  convince 
others  of  a proposition  which  they  do  not  believe  is 
bound  to  prove  that  proposition.  A man  cannot  be 

1 Stephen : Digest  of  the  Law  of  Evidence,  chap.  xiii.  art.  xciii. 

2 Ibid.,  art.  xevi.  See,  however,  p.  224. 

10* 


220 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


expected  to  cliange  liis  opinions  unless  and  until  rea- 
sons for  a change  are  adduced,  as  a court  will  not  act 
unless  and  until  evidence  lias  been  given  which  fur- 
nishes reasons  for  its  action. 

A reasoner  upon  whom  the  Burden  of  Proof  does 
Presumption  usually,  the  Fresumptiou  ^ in  his 

aeiiuea.  favor ; that  is,  the  proposition  he  maintains 
is  taken  ^ as  true  in  advance  ^ of  direct  proof.  A Pre- 
sumption, in  the  words  of  a distinguished  English  law- 
yer,2  “ is  simply  an  avowedly  imperfect  generalization  ; 
and  this  must,  of  course,  be  founded  on  experience.” 
Experience  having  told  us  that  such  and  such  things 
have  happened,  we  presume,  in  the  absence  of  direct 
evidence,  that  similar  occurrences  happened  or  will 
happen  in  similar  circumstances.  “ Proof,”  said  Lord 
Erskine,  “ is  nothing  more  than  presumption  of  a hi^i 
order ; ” for  proof  simply  creates  an  exceedingly  strong 
probability.  ✓ 

Confusion  has  been  created  ^ by  confounding  what 
Presumptions  Called  Presumptious  of  law  with  Pre- 
ofiaw.  sumptions  proper.  A presumption  of  law 
might  more  properly  be  termed  an  assumption;  for  it 
is  equivalent  to  “ a rule  of  law  [perhaps  arbitrary] 
that  courts  and  judges  shall  draw  a particular  inference 
from  a particular  fact,  or  from  particular  evidence, 
unless  and  until  the  truth  of  such  inference  is  dis- 
proved.” ^ 

“ A person  shown  not  to  have  been  heard  of  for  seven  years  by 
those  (if  any)  who  if  he  had  been  alive  would  naturally  have  heard 
of  him,  is  presumed  to  be  dead  unless  the  circumstances  of  the  case 


1 From  prae,  before,  and  sumo,  take. 

2 Stephen:  Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fraternity,  p.  201. 

* By  Archbishop  Whately,  for  instance. 

* Stephen : Digest,  chap  i. 


Chap.  III.]  BURDEN  OF  PROOF  AND  PRESUMPTION.  221 


are  such  as  to  account  for  his  not  being  heard  of  without  assuming 
his  death.”  i 

A person  accused  of  a crime  is  presumed  to  be  innocent. 

A presumption  of  this  class  — a presumption  capable  of  being 
rebutted  — used  to  be  called  presumptio  juris ; and  the  tei'm  is  still 
used  in  many  of  the  books. 

The  presumption  known  in  the  old  books  as  presumptio  juris  el  de 
jure,  or  as  ‘‘a  conclusive  presumption,”  is  more  intelligibly  called 
conclusive  proof. 

” Conclusive  proof  means  evidence  upon  the  production  of  which, 
or  a fact  upon  the  proof  of  which,  the  judge  is  bound  by  law  to 
regard  some  fact  as  proved,  and  to  exclude  evidence  intended  to 
disprove  it.”  ^ 

Such  is  the  rule  that  a child  under  seven  years  of  age  is  incapa- 
ble of  committing  a crime. 

The  Presumptions  Avbich  have  place  in  argumenta- 
tive composition  are,  on  the  other  hand,  what  presumptions 
the  law  books  call  presumptiones  hominis,  Pre-  proper- 
sumptions  of  fact,  — inferences,  or  arguments,  drawn 
from  knoivn  facts  of  experience,  and  varying  in  force 
and  in  direction  with  experience. 

The  presumption  that  snow  will  fall  at  New  York  in  the  course 
of  a given  winter  is  much  stronger  than  that  it  will  fall  at  Naples 
in  the  same  winter,  but  is  not  so  strong  as  the  presumption  that 
the  tides  will  ebb  and  flow  next  year  as  they  have  always  done 
within  known  human  experience. 

A few  years  ago,  there  was  a presumption  against  the  possibility 
of  telegi’aphic  communication  between  Europe  and  America;  but 
now  the  presumption  would  be  in  favor  of  the  successful  use  of  a 
new  cable. 

There  is  for  every  man  a presumption  in  favor  of  the  correct- 
ness of  the  opinions,  — religious,  political,  scientific,  literary,  — 
in  which  he  has  been  brought  up. 

In  some  minds,  a presumption  is  raised  in  favor  of  the  correct- 
ness of  opinions  which  are  expressed  with  dogmatic  positiveness, 
in  others  against  them,  — some  concluding  from  facts  which  they 

1 Stephen : Digest,  art.  99.  ^ Pbid.^  chap.  i. 


222 


ARGmiENTATlVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


have  observed  that  a man  -uho  did  not  know  would  not  be  so  siwe 
he  was  right,  others  that  he  is  so  sure  because  he  does  not  know 
the  arguments  on  the  other  side. 

Previous  good  character  affords  a presumption  of  innocence ; a 
liberal  education  affords  a presumption  of  knowledge  of  books; 
a business  life,  a presumption  of  knowledge  of  affairs. 

There  is,  in  general,  a presumption  against  any  thing  contrary 
to  received  opinions;  for  it  is  presumed  that  they  would  not  be 
received  opinions  unless  the  probabilities  of  truth  were  in  their 
favor. 

A similar  presumption  exists  against  every  movement  that  is  in 
opposition  to  established  institutions;  for  it  is  presumed  that  they 
were  established  for  good  reasons.  He  who  would  overthrow  what 
is  established  is  bound  to  show  either  that  those  reasons  no  longer 
exist,  or  that  they  are  overborne  by  stronger  reasons  for  a change. 
The  present  mode  of  burial,  for  example,  has  the  presumption  in 
its  favor;  and,  therefore,  the  advocates  of  cremation  are  obliged 
to  bring  forward  arguments  to  show  the  desirableness  of  a change. 
Another  example  may  be  taken  from  Mill’s  paper  on  “ The  Sub- 
jection of  Women:  ” — 

‘ ‘ In  every  respect  the  burthen  is  hard  on  those  who  attack  an 
almost  universal  opinion.  Tliey  must  be  very  fortunate  as  well  as 
unusually  capable  if  they  obtain  a hearing  at  all.  They  have  more 
difficulty  in  obtaining  a trial,  than  any  other  litigants  have  in 
getting  a verdict.  If  they  do  extort  a hearing,  they  are  subjected 
to  a set  of  logical  requirements  totally  different  from  those  exacted 
from  other  people.  In  all  other  cases,  the  burthen  of  proof  is 
supposed  to  lie  with  the  affirmative.  ...  It  is  useless  for  me  to 
say  that  those  who  maintain  the  doctrine  that  men  have  a right 
to  command  and  women  are  under  an  obligation  to  obey,  or  that 
men  are  fit  for  government  and  women  unfit,  are  on  the  affirma- 
tive side  of  the  question,  and  that  they  are  bound  to  show  positive 
evidence  for  the  assertions,  or  submit  to  their  rejection.  It  is 
equally  unavailing  for  me  to  say  that  those  who  deny  to  women 
any  freedom  or  privilege  rightly  allowed  to  men,  having  the  double 
presumption  against  them  that  they  are  opposing  freedom  and  rec- 
ommending partiality,  must  be  held  to  the  strictest  proof  of  their 
case,  and  [that]  unless  their  success  be  such  as  to  exclude  all  doubt, 
the  judgment  ought  to  go  against  them.  These  would  be  thought 


Chap.  III.]  BURDEN  OF  PROOF  AND  PRESUMPTION.  223 


good  pleas  in  any  common  case;  but  they  will  not  be  thought  so 
in  this  instance.  Before  I could  hope  to  make  any  impression, 

I should  be  expected  not  only  to  answ'er  all  that  has  ever  been 
said  by  those  who  take  the  other  side  of  the  question,  but  to 
imagine  all  that  could  be  said  by  them,  — to  find  them  in  reasons, 
as  well  as  answer  all  I find;  and  besides  refuting  all  arguments  for 
the  affirmative,  I shall  be  called  upon  for  invincible  positive  argu- 
ments to  prove  a negative.  And  even  if  I could  do  all  this,  and 
leave  the  oi^posite  party  with  a host  of  unanswered  alignments 
against  them,  and  not  a single  unrefuted  one  on  their  side,  I should 
be  thought  to  have  done  little;  for  a cause  supported  on  the  one 
hand  by  universal  usage,  and  on  the  other  by  so  great  a preponder- 
ance of  popular  sentiment,  is  supposed  to  have  a presumption  in 
its  favor,  superior  to  any  conviction  which  an  appeal  to  reason  has 
power  to  produce  in  any  intellects  but  those  of  a high  class.” 

He  on  whom  the  Burden  of  Proof  rests,  and  against 
Avhom  the  Presumption  lies,  must  overcome  the  exist- 
ing preponderance  of  probabilities  by  throwing  proof 
into  the  opposite  scale.  A very  little  may  suffice,  or  a 
great  deal  may  be  needed,  according  as  the  presumption 
to  be  rebutted  is  a weak  or  a strong  one. 

One  way  of  rebutting  a presumption  is  by  the  intro- 
duction of  evidence  which  raises  a counter-  coulter- 

presumption.  presumptions. 

The  presumption  in  favor  of  an  establislied  institution  may  be 
rebutte  1,  even  to  a conservative  mind,  by  evidence  tending  to 
show  that  the  institution  in  question  is  an  obstacle  to  the  success- 
ful working  of  some  other  established  institution,  the  superior  value 
of  which  is  admitted. 

There  is  a presumption  in  favor  of  a system  of  laws  under  which 
a country  has  flourished;  but  if  another  country,  similarly  situated, 
has  been  still  more  prosperous  under  a different  system  of  laws,  - 
there  is  a counter-presumption  that  the  prosperity  of  the  first 
country  is  due  to  other  causes  than  her  laws. 

“ With  respect  to  the  deference  due  to  the  opinions  (written  or 
spoken)  of  intelligent  and  well-informed  men,  it  may  be  remarked 
that  before  a question  has  been  fully  argued,  there  is  a presumption 


224 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.,  [Book  II. 


that  they  are  in  the  right;  hut  afterivards,  if  objections  have  been 
brought  which  they  have  failed  to  answer,  the  presumption  is  the 
other  way.  Tlie  wiser  . . . those  opposed  to  you,  . . . the  greater 
is  the  probability  that  if  there  were  any  flaw  in  your  argument 
they  would  have  refuted  you.  This  important  distinction  is  often 
overlooked.”  ^ 


Tlie  counter-presumption  which  rebuts  the  original 
presumption  may,  in  its  turn,  be  rebutted  by 

Presumptions  j.  ,,  . , ,,  • ,i 

shift  from  further  argument;  and  thus,  in  the  course 

side  to  side.  « , , . . i • , 

of  a long  discussion,  each  side  may  several 
times  enjoy  the  advantage  of  the  Presumption. 


Whether  the  burden  of  proof  shifts  at  the  same  time  with  the 
presumption  is  a question  on  which  legal  authorities  differ.  In 
the  courts  of  Massachusetts,  it  is  held  that  the  burden  of  proof 
rests  throughout  on  the  party  on  whom  it  rested  when  the  issue 
was  made  up.  In  England,  the  law  is  as  follows : — 

“ The  burden  of  proof  in  any  proceeding  lies  at  first  on  that 
party  against  whom  the  judgment  of  the  Court  would  be  given  if 
no  evidence  at  all  were  produced  on  either  side,'  regard  being  had 
to  any  presumption  which  may  appear  upon  the  pleadings.  As  the 
proceeding  goes  on,  the  burden  of  proof  may  be  shifted  from  the 
party  on  whom  it  rested  at  first,  by  his  proving  facts  which  raise  a 
presumption  in  his  favor. 

“ A,  a married  woman,  is  accused  of  theft  and  pleads  not 
guilty.  The  burden  of  proof  is  on  the  prosecution.  She  is  shown 
to  have  been  in  possession  of  the  stolen  goods  soon  after  the  theft. 
The  burden  of  proof  is  shifted  to  A.  She  shows  that  she  stole 
them  in  the  presence  of  her  husband.  The  burden  of  proving 
that  she  was  not  coerced  by  him  is  shifted  on  to  [.fie]  the  prose- 
cutor.” 2 

The  question  is  a narrow  one,  and  turns  upon  a definition ; for 
it  may  well  be  that  the  burden  of  proof  as  to  the  issue  (the  general 
proposition  in  dispute)  is  on  one  party  throughout,  but  that  as  to 
subordinate  questions  it  shifts  from  side  to  side  as  the  case  goes  on. 


1 Whately:  Annotations  to  Bacon’s  Essays;  Notes  to  the  fiftieth  Essay, 
Of  Studies.” 

^ Stephen:  Digest,  art.  xcv. 


Chap.  Ill  ] BURDEN  OF  PROOF  AND  PRESUMPTION.  225 


A reasoner  should,  however,  always  avail  himself  of 
the  Presumption,  so  long  as  it  is  in  his  fa-  Burden  of 
vor,  and  never  assume  the  burden  of  prov-  ^TimecesL- 
ing  what  the  experience  of  mankind  has 
proved  for  him. 

In  criminal  cases,  the  question  upon  whom  rests  the  burden  of 
proof  may  be  a question  of  life  or  death. ^ 

‘ ‘ A moderate  portion  of  common  sense  will  enable  any  one  to 
perceive,  and  to  show,  on  which  side  the  presumption  lies,  wheA 
once  his  attention  is  called  to  tliis  question ; though,  for  want  of 
attention,  it  is  often  overlooked:  and  on  the  determination  of  this 
question  the  whole  character  of  a discussion  will  often  very  much 
depend.  A body  of  troops  may  be  perfectly  adequate  to  the  defence 
of  a fortress  against  any  attack  that  may  be  made  on  it ; and  yet, 
if,  ignorant  of  the  advantage  they  possess,  they  sally  forth  into  the 
open  field  to  encounter  the  enemy,  they  may  suffer  a repulse.  At 
any  rate,  even  if  strong  enough  to  act  on  the  offensive,  they  ought 
still  to  keep  possession  of  their  foi'tress.  In  like  manner,  if  you 
have  the  presumption  on  your  side,  and  can  but  refute  all  the  argu- 
ments brought  against  you,  you  have,  for  the  present  at  least, 
gained  a victory:  but  if  you  abandon  this  position,  by  suffering 
this  presumption  to  be  forgotten,  — which  is  in  fact  leaving  out  one 
of,  perhaps,  your  strongest  arguments,  — you  may  appear  to  be  mak- 
ing a feeble  attack,  instead  of  a triumphant  defence.”  " 

A reasoner  who  puts  himself  on  the  defensive  by 
relying  on  the  presumption  in  his  favor  is,  moreover, 
likely  to  require  different  arguments  and  a different 
arrangement  from  those  that  would  be  necessary,  if  he 
were  obliged  to  meet  an  opponent  in  the  open  field, 
or  to  attack  him  behind  strong  entrenchments. 

1 See  York’s  Case,  9 Metcalf’s  (Massachusetts)  Rep.,  S3, 
s Whately:  Rhetoric,  part  i.  chap.  iii.  sect.  ix. 


226 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ORDER  OF  PROPOSITION  AND  PROOF. 

The  importance  of  so  arranging  the  several  parts  of 
an  argumentative  composition  that  they  may 

Importance  , 

of  a good  render  ettective  support  to  one  another  can 

arrangement,  in.  . i-n 

hardly  be  over-estimated,  h orees  that  could 
be  beaten  in  detail  may  be  irresistible  -when  skilfully 
drawn  up,  and  massed  at  the  points  of  danger. 

“ You  shall  find  hundreds  of  persons  able  to  produce  a crowd  of 
good  idet^s  upon  any  subject,  for  one  that  can  marshal  them 
to  the  best  advantage.  Disposition  is  to  the  orator  what  tactics, 
or  the  discipline  of  armies,  is  to  the  military  art.  And  as  the 
balance  of  victory  has  almost  always  been  turned  by  the  superiority 
of  tactics  and  of  discipline,  so  the  great  effects  of  eloquence  are 
always  produced  by  the  excellency  of  disposition.  There  is  no 
part  of  the  science  in  which  the  consummate  orator  will  be  so 
decidedly  marked  out,  as  by  the  perfection  of  his  disposition.”  ^ 

At  the  very  beginning  of  his  Oration  on  the  Crown, 
Demosthenes  justly  demanded  from  his  judges,  as  a 
condition  of  fair  play,  freedom  in  the  arrangement  as 
well  as  in  the  selection  of  his  arguments.  Had  he 
been  obliged  to  adopt  the  arrangement  of  his  adversary 
jEschines,  as  iEschines  desired,  he  would  necessarily 
liave  given  undue  prominence  to  the  strong  points  of 
the  case  against  him,  and  undue  subordination  to  the 
strong  points  in  his  favor.  Imagine  a chess-player 
obliged  to  govern  his  moves  by  those  of  his  opponent. 
Imagine  Napoleon  forced  to  adapt  his  lines  to  those  of 

1 J.  Q.  Adams : Lectures  on  Rhetoric  and  Oratory,  vol.  i.  pp.  1C8-1G9.  See 
also  Appendix,  p.  283. 


Chap.  IV.]  ORDER  OF  PROPOSITION  AND  PROOF. 


227 


the  enemy, — to  post  cavalry  opposite  to  cavalry,  artil- 
lery to  artillery,  infantry  to  infantry,  whatever  the  char- 
acter of  the  ground  or  the  disparity  of  numbers.  The 
most  etfective  order  in  some  circumstances  is  the  least 
effective  in  others,  for  the  conditions  of  each  case  deter- 
mine the  best  order  for  that  case.  Hence,  only  the 
most  general  rules  for  arrangement  can  be  given ; but, 
if  the  jA'inciples  which  underlie  those  rules  are  once 
tlioroughly  understood,  their  application  under  new 
conditions  will  not  be  difficult. 

Should  the  Proposition  come  first?  or  should  the 
argument  lead  up  to  the  Proposition  through  should  the 

j 1 T->  o o Proposition 

tlie  i root  t or  the  Proof 

conic  tirst? 

We  have  already  seen  how  important  it  is 
that  a reasoner  should  himself,  at  the  outset,^  clearly 
understand  the  Proposition  he  is  to  maintain ; but  it 
by  no  means  follows  that  he  should  hasten  to  announce 
the  Proposition  to  those  Avhom  he  would  convince  of  its 
truth.  His  tirst  object  should  be  to  secure  their  favor- 
able attention. 

Now,  to  engage  attention  at  all,  it  is  desirable  to  ap- 
pear to  be  saying  something  new.  If,  then,  the  Propo- 
sition is  a truism  to  the  persons  addressed,  it  will  usually 
be  judicious  to  av/aken  their  attention  by  beginning  with 
what  is  novel  in  the  Proof.  Regarded  from  a new  point 
of  view,  approached  by  a new  path,  the  old  conelusion 
will  acquire  a fresh  interest,  — except,  indeed,  for  those 
unfortunate  persons  Avhose  minds  are  accessible  to  noth- 
ing but  commoniilace,  and  for  Avhom,  therefore,  even  a 
novelty  must  be  presented  in  a commonplace  dress. 

If  the  Proposition,  whether  Avell  known  to  the  per- 
sons addressed  or  not,  is  likely  to  awaken  their  lios- 

1 See  p.  18-5. 


228 


AKGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


tility,  it  should  not  be  announced  until  steps  have  been 
taken  to  procure  for  it  a favorable  reception.  Often 
the  best  course  to  this  end  is  to  state  at  the  outset 
the  question  at  issue,  but  not  to  espouse  either  side  un- 
til after  the  arguments  for  each  have  been  canvassed. 
It  may  also  be  possible  to  secure  assent  to  general 
principles  from  which  the  conclusion  can  be  logically 
deduced.  In  pursuing  this  course,  a reasoner  seems  to 
invite  his  readers  or  hearers  to  join  him  in  an  inquiry 
for  the  truth.  This  inquiry  results,  if  he  is  successful, 
not  so  much  in  convincing  them  as  in  leading  them  to 
convince  themselves  of  the  justness  of  his  conclusion  ; if 
he  is  unsuccessful,  in  inducing  them  to  give  some  weight 
to  reasons  which  they  would  not  have  considered  at  all, 
had  they  known  to  what  conclusion  they  led. 

Another  method  of  disarming  hostility  is  for  a speaker 
to  establish  pleasant  relations  with  the  audience  by  ad- 
verting to  opinions  (irrelevant  ones,  it  may  be)  Avhich 
they  hold  in  eommon  with  him,  before  proceeding  to 
points  of  difference. 

Thus,  a well-known  anti-slaveiy  orator  of  Massachusetts  was 
accustomed,  in  the  days  when  Abolitionists  were  persecuted,  to 
remind  rural  audiences  that,  whatever  might  be  said  of  his  political 
views,  his  religious  opinions  were  as  sound  as  theirs. 

In  the  absence,  however,  of  considerations  such  as 
have  been  noticed,  the  better  course  usually  is,  first,  to 
state  what  is  to  be  proved,  and,  secondly,  to  prove  it. 
This  course  is  particularly  to  be  recommended  if  the 
subject  is  abstruse,  and  the  arguments  are  numerous. 
Knowledge  of  the  proposition  serves  as  a clue  to  diffi- 
cult reasoning. 

Thus,  Mill  begins  his  “ Liberty  ” and  “ Kepresentative  Govern- 
ment” by  laying  down  the  propositions  he  means  to  establish; 


Chap.  IV.]  ORDER  OF  PROPOSITION  AND  PROOF. 


229 


and  in  “ The  Subjection  of  Women,”  the  very  title  states  his  con- 
clusion, if  indeed  it  does  not  beg  the  question. ^ Bm-ke  usually 
enumerates  the  propositions  he  intends  to  make  good. 

The  Proposition,  -when  stated  at  the  outset,  should 
be  stated  Avith  the  utmost  clearness  and  the  Tiie  proposi- 
greatest  brevity ; for  it  serves  to  show,  not  ne  clear 
what  we  are  saying,  but  what  Ave  are  going  ' 

to  say.2 

“ The  brevity  required  in  partition  is  positive.  It  consists  in 
using  the  smallest  number  of  words  possible  to  express  your  idea. 
Every  word  must  be  used  in  its  plain,  literal  meaning,  Avithout  any 
admixture  of  figuratiAm  language.  A partition  is  properly  the 
solution  of  the  proposition  into  its  elements.  Its  perspicuity  must 
depend  altogether  upon  its  precision ; and  Avhat  can  be  more  absurd 
than  for  that  part  to  be  obscure,  the  only  use  of  Avhich  is  to  throw 
light  upon  all  the  rest?  ” * 

‘‘I  found  from  experience,  as  well  as  theory,”  writes  Scarlett 
(Lord  Abinger),  the  most  successful  of  English  advocates,  “that 
the  most  essential  part  of  speaking  is  to  make  yourself  understood. 
For  this  purpose  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  the  Court  and  jury 
should  know  as  early  as  possible  de  qua  re  ayilur.  It  was  my  habit, 
therefore,  to  state  in  the  simplest  form  that  the  truth  and  the  case 
Avould  admit  the  proposition  of  which  I maintained  the  affirmative 
and  the  defendant’s  counsel  the  negative,  and  then,  without  reason- 
ing upon  them,  the  leading  facts  in  support  of  my  assertion.  Thus 
it  has  often  happened  to  me  to  open  a cause  in  five  minutes,  which 
would  have  occupied  a speaker  at  the  Bar  of  the  present  day  from 
half  an  hour  to  three-quarters  of  an  hour  or  more.”  ^ 

If  the  Proposition  is  a complex  one,  care  should  be 
taken  to  arrange  its  parts  in  the  order  in  Avliich  they 
are  to  be  taken  up,  and  to  take  them  up  in  the  exact 

1 Sec  p.  19R. 

2 “Non  enim,  quid  dicamus,  sed,  de  quo dicturi  sumus,  ostendimus.’’  — Quin- 
tilian : Inst.  Orator,  iv.  v.  xxvi. 

3 J.  Q.  Adams : Lectures  on  Elietoric  and  Oratory,  a’oI.  ii.  p.  19.  Borrowed 
from  Quintilian,  Inst.  Orator,  iv.  v.  xxvi. 

4 Abinger:  Autobiography,  p.  74. 


230 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II 


order  announced.  Otherwise,  the  preliminary  state- 
ment does  more  harm  than  good.  The  worst  fault  of 
all  is  that  ascribed  to  a celebrated  American  preacher, 
— the  fault  of  first  making  a formal  announcement  of 
what  is  to  come,  and  then  going  on  as  if  no  such  an- 
nouncement had  been  made. 

Though  it  is  almost  always  possible  to  strengthen 
Arguments  a chaiii  of  reasoning  by  arguments  belonging 
useful.  to  each  of  the  three  enumerated  kinds,^  it  is  in 
some  cases  expedient  to  lay  greater  stress  upon  those  of 
one  class,  in  other  cases  upon  those  of  another  class.  It 
is,  for  example,  diihcult  to  prove  by  any  amount  of  direct 
evidence  a fact  that  is  in  apparent  opposition  to  common 
experience,  unless  we  can  also  suggest  a probable  cause  ; 
but  where  the  event  is  a usual  one,  Ave  are  on  the  one 
hand  satisfied  Avith  a small  amount  of  direct  evidence,  and 
on  the  other  hand  prompt  to  think  of  probable  causes. 

If  the  persons  addressed  are  already  of  the  speaker’s 
opinion,  he  need  only  give  them  reasons  for  the  faith 
that  is  in  them ; he  can,  therefore,  rely  in  the  main  on 
arguments  from  Antecedent  Probability : but  if  they 
are  in  a hostile  attitude,  such  arguments  Avill  be  of  no 
avail  until  a strong  foundation  for  them  has  been  laid 
with  arguments  from  Sign  or  from  Example.  A politi- 
cal speaker,  for  instance,  who  is  addressing  men  of  his 
OAvn  party  has  a very  different  task  from  that  of  one 
Avho  is  addressing  opponents. 

In  arranging  his  Proof,  a reasoner  does  Avell  to 
Order  of  foUoiv  the  natural  order,  — that  is,  the  order 
Proof.  Avhich  arguments  Avould  naturally  occur  to 
the  mind,  — even  Avhere  that  order  is,  in  itself  consid- 
ered, less  effective  than  an  artificial  order  would  be. 

1 See  p.  19.3. 


Chap.  IV.]  ORDER  OF  PROPOSITION  AND  PROOF. 


231 


Any  departure  from  the  obvious  arrangement  is  likely 
to  suggest  the  idea  of  artifice;  and  the  suggestion  of 
artifice  excites  suspicion  of  sophistry,  — Avhat  may  be 
merely  a faidt  of  form  being  imputed  to  substance. 

If,  however,  in  consequence  of  following  the  natural 
order,  an  author  or  a speaker  is  obliged  to  present  his 
weakest  arguments  last,  he  will  do  well  to  recapitulate 
them  at  the  end  in  the  reverse  order  ; for  the  principle 
of  Climax  ^ applies  to  reasoning  as  fully  as  to  style. 

In  many  cases,  the  most  natural  as  well  as  the  most 
effective  order  is  that  which  places  arguments  from 
Antecedent  Probability  first,  those  from  Sign  second, 
and  those  from  Example  last.  The  arguments  from 
Antecedent  Probability  raise  a presumption  ^ in  favor 
of  the  Proposition  in  hand ; the  arguments  from  Sign 
adduce  evidence  tending  to  strengthen  that  presump- 
tion, by  showing  that  a thing  which  was  likely  to  occur 
did  occur;  and  the  arguments  from  Example  strengthen 
it  still  further  by  evidence  concerning  similar  occur- 
rences. The  fii'st  jiroves  the  principle  which  is  appli- 
cable to  the  case  ; the  second  proves  that  the  principle 
actually  applies  to  the  case  ; the  third  furnishes  instances 
of  its  application  in  other  cases. 

“ The  example,  introduced  after  the  antecedent  probability 
argument,  will  serve  both  to  illustrate  and  also  to  confiim  it. 
Indeed,  in  this  order,  they  reflect  light  on  each  other.  Mr.  Burke, 
in  his  speech  on  the  Nabob  of  Arcot’s  debts,  in  endeavoring  to 
prove  that  India  had  been  reduced  to  a condition  of  extreme  want 
and  wretchedness,  first  presents  the  causes  in  operation  to  produce 
it;  then,  examples  of  the  operation  of  those  causes;  and  finally, 
particidar  signs  of  the  fact.  The  mind  veiy  readily  receives  the 
whole  statement,  because  from  the  view  of  the  cause  the  effects 
are  naturally  anticipated.”  ® 

1 See  p.  1.3,3.  2 See  p.  220. 

2 II.  N.  Daj’ : Art  of  Discourse,  part  ii.  chap.  v.  p.  155- 


232 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  IL 


In  legal  oi:)inions,  it  is  usual  first  to  lay  down  the  principle  of  the 
case  — a form  of  the  argument  from  antecedent  probability  — and 
then  to  cite  precedents;  that  is,  examples  of  similar  cases  : in  a 
treatise  on  medicine,  the  theory  of  a course  of  treatment  comes 
first,  and  examples  from  practice  follow. 

An  additional  reason  for  not  putting  the  argument 
from  Antecedent  Probability  last  is  that,  in  that  place, 
it  might  be  supposed  to  be,  not  an  instrument  of  proof, 
but  an  explanation  of  a fact  already  proved ; and,  as 
mere  explanation,  it  would,  of  course,  have  no  weight 
with  those  who  denied  the  fact.^ 

An  additional  reason  for  putting  examples  after  the 
arguments  from  Antecedent  Probability  is  that,  until  a 
principle  is  established,  one  cannot  tell  whether  a given 
example  is  an  exception  to  a general  rule  or  an  instance 
under  it. 

Thus,  the  examples  of  Csesar,  Napoleon,  and  Cromwell,  which 
were  adduced  some  years  ago  by  partisan  newspapers  to  prove  that 
President  Grant  meant  to  establish  a despotism  on  the  ruins  of  the 
American  Republic,  frightened  nobody,  because  there  was  no  evi- 
dence tending  to  bring  Grant  into  the  same  class  or  under  the  same 
conditions  with  Csesar,  Napoleon,  Cromwell,  or  even  Aaron  Burr. 
Had  it  been  possible  to  lay  a foundation  for  these  examples  by 
arguments  from  antecedent  probability,  they  might  have  had  some 
weight. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  fears  of  patriotic  civilians,  including 
even  Dr.  Franklin,  were  aroused  by  the  establishment,  in  1783,  of 
The  Cincinnati,  an  association  formed  by  the  officers  of  the  Revo- 
lutionaiy  army  of  the  United  States  for  social  and  benevolent 
purposes.  The  provision  for  the  transmission  of  the  honors  of  the 
society  in  the  eldest  male  line  of  the  original  members  was  deemed 
to  be  the  first  step  toward  an  aristocracy,  — an  apprehension  for 
which  a certain  amount  of  antecedent  probability  as  well  as 
numerous  examples  could  be  adduced,  but  which  soon  proved 
groundless. 


1 See  p.  212. 


Chap.  IV.J  ORDER  OF  PROPOSITION  AND  PROOF. 


233 


Additional  considerations  come  into  play  where  a 
speaker  is  obliged  to  follow  or  to  precede  a 

^ ° T 1 r>  1 Refutation. 

formidable  opponent.  In  the  former  case,  he 
can  make  no  headway  until  he  has  weakened  the  impres- 
sion jiroduced  by  his  adversary ; in  the  latter  case,  he 
should  strive  to  produce  so  deep  an  impression  that  it 
cannot  be  obliterated. 

Care  must,  however,  be  taken  not  to  magnify  the 
strength  of  an  opponent’s  case  by  spending  unnecessary 
time  and  trouble  upon  him.  True  skill  consists  in  shat- 
tering his  arguments  while  seeming  to  slight  them. 

“Perceval  said  of  Law  (Lord  Ellenborough),  ‘He  has  great 
strength  which  he  puts  forth  on  occasions  too  trivial  to  require  it. 
He  wields  a huge,  two-handed  sword  to  extricate  a fly  from  a spi- 
der’s web.’  The  remark  was  just.  Loi^  Ellenborough  had  great 
talents,  but  at  the  Bar  he  always  seemed  disposed  to  can-y  his  point 
by  force.”  ^ 

It  is  unwise,  on  the  one  hand,  to  begin,  even  when 
one  is  pressed  hard,  with  an  elaborate  refutation  of  ob- 
jections, as  if  they  were  very  serious  indeed ; or,  on  the 
other  hand,  to  neglect  them  altogether,  for  entire  neglect 
raises  the  suspicion  that  they  are  not  answered  because 
they  cannot  be. 

The  disadvantages  of  each  alternative  can  be  avoided 
by  making  a general  answer  to  the  arguments 
on  the  other  side,  but  postponing  their  com-  waive  a point, 
plete  refutation  till  a more  convenient  season.  If  this 
course  is  pursued,  it  is  well  to  say  distinctly  that  the 
discussion  is  Avaived  — that  is,  put  aside  — for  the  time 
being  only.  At  a later  stage  of  the  argument,  when  the 
speaker  has  made  a prima  facie  case  on  his  side  of  the 
question,  he  can  dispose  of  objections  with  less  trouble 


* Abinger ; Autobiography,  p.  8.3. 


234 


ARGUxMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


and  with  greater  effect.  Reasoners  whose  object  is  vic- 
toiy  rather  than  truth  sometimes  make  a dishonest  use 
of  their  right  to  rvaive  a point,  by  forgetting  to  resume 
its  consideration.  This  stratagem,  if  discovered,  will 
sorely  plague-  the  inventor  ; and  it  can  never  be  safely 
employed,  except  where  the  discourse  is  a spoken  one 
delivered  for  a temporary  purpose  : in  the  address  to 
a jury,  for  example,  of  an  advocate  who  speaks  last, 
or  in  a political  harangue  on  the  eve  of  an  election. 

The  most  famous  example  under  this  head  is  Demosthenes’s 
Oration  on  the  Crown.  The  great  orator  postponed  the  considera- 
tion of  the  specific  charges  against  himself  until  he  had  prepossessed 
the  judges  in  his  favor  by  an  enumeration  of  his  services  to  the 
State ; then  he  touched  on  the  points  made  by  iEschines,  but  soon 
contemptuously  dismissed  them,  and  returned  to  his  own  merits  as 
contrasted  with  his  adversary’s  want  of  patriotism. 

Prudence,  as  well  as  honesty,  prescribes  that  the  ar- 
Expediency  g>-i™ents  of  an  Opponent  shall  be  fairly  met. 
opponratf  attempt  to  slur  them,  to  misstate  them, 

fairly.  understate  them,  is  almost  sure  to  be 

detected,  and,  if  detected,  is  likely  to  be  judged  even 
more  severely  than  the  facts  warrant ; for  the  mortified 
pride  of  a man  who  feels  insulted  by  the  effort  to  de- 
ceive Mm  will  intensify  his  indignation  at  a fraud  on  the 
community. 

Hence,  skilful  speakers  or  writers  seek  to  produce  the 
impression  that  they  can  afford  to  do  their  opponents 
more  than  justice,  their  own  case  being  so  strong. 

“ Vei-y  often,  when  the  impression  of  the  jury  and  sometimes  of 
the  judge  has  been  against  me  on  the  conclusion  of  the  defendant’s 
case,  I have  had  the  good  fortune  to  bring  them  entirely  to  adopt 
my  conclusions.  Whenever  I observed  this  impression,  but  thought 
myself  .entitled  to  the  verdict,  I made  it  the  rule  to  treat  the  im- 
pression as  very  natural  and  reasonable,  to  acknowledge  that  there 


CiiAi-.  IV. J OllDER  OF  FROFOSmON  AND  FROOF. 


235 


were  cireumstanees  which  presented  great  difficulties  and  doubts, 
to  invite  a candid  and  temperate  investigation  of  all  the  important 
topics  that  belonged  to  the  case,  and  to  express  rather  a hope  than 
a confident  opinion  [that]  upon  a deliberate  and  calm  investigation  I 
should  be  able  to  satisfy  the  Court  and  jury  that  the  plaintiff  was 
entitled  to  the  verdict.  I then  avoided  all  appearance  of  confi- 
dence, and  endeavored  to  place  the  reasoning  on  my  part  in  the 
clearest  and  strongest  view,  and  to  weaken  that  of  my  adversary ; 
to  show  that  the  facts  for  the  plaintiff  could  lead  naturally  but  to 
one  conclusion,  while  those  of  the  defendant  might  be  accounted 
for  on  other  hypotheses:  and  when  I thought  I had  gained  my  point 
I left  it  to  the  candor  and  good  sense  of  the  jury  to  draw  their  own 
[conclusion].  This  course  seems  to  me  not  to  be  the  result  of  any 
consummate  art,  but  the  plain  and  natural  course  which  common 
sense  would  dictate.  At  the  same  time  it  must  be  observed,  that 
he  who  would  adopt  it  can  only  expect  success  when  it  is  known 
that  he  can  discriminate  between  a sound  and  a hopeless  case,  and 
that  his  judgment  is  sufficiently  strong  to  overcome  the  bias  of  the 
advocate  and  the  importunity  of  the  client,  and  to  make  him  at  once 
surrender  a case  that  cannot  and  ought  not  to  be  sustained.”  ' 


A reasoner  may  even  go  so  far  as  to  admit  that  some 
of  the  arguments  on  the  other  side  are  unan- 

, , p . ,.  , , ..  Unanswerable 

swerable,  lor  in  every  disputed  question  there  arguments 

. , . 1 • 1 e • T each  side. 

IS  something  to  be  said  lor  a given  conclu- 
sion, and  something  against  it. 


“ There  are  arguments  for  a plenum,'"  said  Dr.  Johnson,  “ and 
arguments  for  a vacuum;  but  one  of  them  must  be  true.” 

There  are  arguments  that  convince  geologists  that  the  earth  has 
existed  for  an  immense  period  of  time,  and  there  are  arguments 
that  convince  chemists  and  physicists  that  the  earth  is  much 
younger  than  geologists  believe;  but  both  theories  cannot  be  true. 


Arguments  that  cannot  be  answered  may  he  over- 
borne by  other  arguments.  It  matters  not  what  is  in 
one  scale,  if  the  other  decidedly  preponderates.^  On 
the  other  hand,  it  should  be  noted  that  to  answer  all 


1 Abingcr:  Autobiography,  pp.  75,  76. 

11 


2 Sec  also  p.  203. 


23o 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


the  arguments  which  have  been  adduced  by  an  oppo- 
nent is  to  silence  him  indeed,  but  not  necessarily  to 
overthrow  his  eonclusion,  still  less  to  establish  another 
conclusion  ; for  the  strength  of  a cause  is  not  measured 
by  the  strength  of  its  advocates. 

■ If  the  persons  addressed  do  not  have  the  opposing 
Place  for  arguments  in  mind,  it  is  obviously  injudicious 
Kefutation.  .(.q  suggcst  them  Until  one’s  own  case  has 
been  (partly  at  least)  made  out.  If,  however,  an  oppo- 
nent is  to  follow,  it  is  impolitic  to  state  his  case  for 
him  after  getting  through  with  your  own,  for  this 
would  be  to  leave  him  master  of  the  field. 

Generally  speaking,  then,  the  Refutation  of  objections 
should  be  near  the  middle  of  the  argument,  so  that 
the  arguments  refuted  may  not  make  either  the  first  or 
the  last  impression.  The  beginning  and  the  end  of  an 
argumentative,  as  of  a dramatic,  composition  are  the 
most  important  parts. 

In  Refutation,  as  in  the  statement  of  Proof, ^ the  nat- 
ural order  should  be  followed.  A reasoner  should  ask 
himself  which  of  his  opponent’s  arguments  he  would 
take  up  first,  if  the  necessity  of  replying  at  once  were 
laid  upon  Mm.^ 

1 See  p.  230. 

2 Quintilian:  Inst.  Orator.,  vii.  i.  xxvi.  Quintilian’s  rule  (vii.  i.  xvii.)  that 
in  refutation  the  wealtest  objection  should  be  answered  first  seems  to  be  incon- 
sistent with  this. 


Chap.  V.] 


PERSUASION. 


237 


CHAPTER  V. 

PERSUASION. 

If,  in  order  to  make  a man  act,  or  even  believe,  as 
one  would  have  him,  it  were  only  necessary  to  convince 
his  understanding,  there  would  be  nothing  more  to  say 
concerning  Argumentative  Composition ; but  we  are 
all  beings  of  feelings  and  passions  as  well  as  of  reason, 
and  must  be  treated  accordingly. 

“ I felt  [ill  reading  Mill’s  ‘ Subjection  of  Women  ’]  what  I sup- 
pose is  a very  common  aversion  to  being  completely  convinced  by 
cold  logic  with  only  a little  irony  for  sauce  — with  not  one  word 
of  persuasion,  no  warmth  of  eloquence.”  ^ 

A man  may  believe,  and  yet  not  act  upon  his  belief ; 
or  he  may  act  on  insufficient  reasons.  To  nowtoinflu- 
influence  his  will,  it  is  necessary  to  influence 
the  active  principles  of  his  nature.  To  win  assent  to 
a general  proposition  is  comparatively  easy ; but  to  se- 
cure adhesion  to  a doctrine  that  has  a personal  appli- 
cation and  requires  exertion  is  not  easy. 

To  make  a millionaire  contribute  liberally  to  a public  charity,  it 
is  not  enough  to  convince  him  that  the  object  is  a worthy  one;  it  is 
necessary  to  make  him  feel  its  claims  upon  him. 

The  political  opinions  of  most  persons  in  the  United  States, 
whether  at  the  North  or  at  the  South,  were  formed  before  the  attack 
was  made  upon  Fort  Sumter  (in  1861);  but  the  flames  of  warlike 
enthusiasm  were  not  lighted  till  Beauregard’s  guns  were  turned 
upon  the  fort. 


1 Chauncey  Wright:  Letters,  p.  152. 


238 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


Nothing,  indeed,  justifies  the  attempt  to  give  evi- 
dence a weight  which  does  not  belong  to  it. 
between  facts  Our  feelings  ought  to  be  regulated  by  the 
facts  which  excite  them. 


“ It  is  a great  mistake,  and  the  source  of  half  the  errors  which 
exist  in  the  world,  to  yield  to  the  temptation  to  allow  om-  feelings 
to  govern  our  estimate  of  facts.  Rational  religious  feeling  is  that 
feeling,  whatever  it  may  be,  which  is  excited  in  the  mind  by  a true 
estimate  of  the  facts  known  to  us  which  bear  upon  religion.  If 
we  do  not  know  enough  to  feel  warmly,  let  us  by  all  means  feel 
calmly;  but  it  is  dishonest  to  try  to  convert  excited  feeling  into 
evidence  of  facts  which  w'ould  justify  it.  To  say,  ‘ There  must  be 
a God  because  I love  him,’  is  just  like  saying,  ‘ That  man  must  be 
a rogue  because  I hate  him,  ’ which  many  people  do  say,  but  not 
wisely.  There  are  in  these  days  many  speculations  by  very  able 
men,  or  men  reputed  to  be  of  great  ability,  which  can  aU  be  re- 
solved into  attempts  to  increase  the  bulk  and  the  weight  of  evi- 
dence by  heating  it  with  love.”  ^ 

On  the  other  hand,  the  understanding  is  an  untrust- 
worthy guide  on  many  questions.  He  who  is  devoid  of 
imagination  cannot  justly  decide  a question  about  mat- 
ters that  are  remote  in  space  or  time,  for  he  cannot 
bring  it  before  his  mind  in  its  true  shape,  with  its 
true  conditions.  He  who  is  devoid  of  sympathy  can- 
not put  himself  in  the  place  of  another  whose  case  he 
has  to  pass  upon.  A cold  and  prosaic  nature  can  be 
reached  by  no  arguments  but  those  drawn  from  its  own 
experience. 

Of  the  two  extremes,  that  of  giving  undue  force  to 
feeling  is  the  usual  fault  of  the  ignorant,  that  of  giving 
too  little  influence  to  feeling  the  fault  of  the  educated, 
since  education  reaches  the  head  chiefly,  and  too  often 
cultivates  it  at  the  expense  of  the  heart.  Hence,  there 


1 Stephen : Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fraternity,  chap.  vii.  p.  324. 


Chap.  V.) 


PERSUASION. 


239 


is  greater  difficulty  in  moving  an  intellectual  than  a 
dull  audience  ; and  far  greater  skill  is  required. 

There  is  less  evidence  of  Wliitefield’s  eloquence  in  the  fact  that 
it  drew  crowds  to  hear  him  than  in  its  effect  upon  Dr.  Franklin.' 

A lawyer  who  starts  a bench  of  judges  from  their  moorings  wins 
a greater  triuinpli  than  a score  of  successes  with  ordinary  jurie.s 
can  give  him. 

The  best  way  to  reach  the  feelings  of  any  audience, 
and  the  only  way  to  reach  those  of  an  intelli-  how  to  reach 
gent  audience,  is  an  indirect  one.  It  is  true  feeimgs. 
that,  in  periods  of  great  religious  or  political  excitement, 
those  who  are  not  only  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the 
speaker’s  conclusion,  but  also  disposed  to  feel  its  force, 
may  successfully  be  exhorted,  fuel  being  thus  heaped 
upon  already  kindled  passions  ; but  even  in  such  cases, 
if  there  are  any  cool  heads  in  the  hall,  it  will  be  well 
to  study  moderation. 

If,  however,  people  do  not  feel  strongly,  it  rarely 
answers  to  tell  them  that  they  ought  to  feel  so ; for 
neither  reason  nor  duty  can  govern  the  issues  of  the 
heart.  To  will  to  be  sympathetic  is  as  idle  as  to  will 
to  quicken  the  circulation  ; but  sympathy  can  be  cre- 
ated, as  the  circulation  can  be  quickened.  We  are 
made  to  feel  by  being  taken  to  the  sources  of  feeling. 

“ I do  not  mean  that  a preacher  must  aim  at  earnestness,  hut  that 
he  must  aim  at  his  object,  which  is  to  do  some  spiritual  good  to  his 
hearers,  and  which  will  at  once  make  him  earnest.  It  is  said  that, 
when  a man  has  to  cross  an  abyss  by  a narrow  plank  thrown  over 
it,  it  is  his  wisdom  not  to  look  at  the  plank  along  which  lies  his 
path,  but  to  fix  his  eyes  steadily  on  the  point  in  the  opposite  preci- 
pice at  which  the  plank  ends.  It  is  by  gazing  at  the  object  whicli 
he  must  reach,  and  ruling  himself  by  it,  that  lie  secures  to  himself 
the  power  of  walking  to  it  straight  and  steadily.  The  case  is  the 


1 Franklin  : .\iitobiof;rapliy,  part  i.  p.  4-3. 


240 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Rook  II. 


same  in  moral  matters;  no  one  will  become  really  earnest  by 
aiming  directly  at  earnestness;  any  one  may  become  earnest  by 
meditating  on  the  motives,  and  by  drinking  at  the  sources,  of 
earnestness.  We  may  of  course  work  ourselves  up  into  a pretence, 
nay,  into  a paroxysm,  of  earnestness;  as  we  may  chafe  our  cold 
hands  till  they  are  warm.  But  when  we  cease  chafing,  we  lose  the 
wai-mth  again ; on  the  contrary,  let  the  sun  come  out  and  strike  us 
with  his  beams,  and  we  need  no  artificial  chafing  to  be  warm.  The 
hot  words,  then,  and  energetic  gestures  of  a preacher,  taken  by 
themselv'es,  are  just  as  much  signs  of  earnestness  as  rubbing  the 
hands  or  flapping  the  arms  together  are  signs  of  warmth ; though 
they  are  natural  where  earnestness  already  exists,  and  pleasing  as 
being  its  spontaneous  concomitants.  To  sit  down  to  compose  for 
the  pulpit  with  a resolution  to  be  eloquent,  is  one  impediment  to 
persuasion  ; but  to  be  determined  to  be  earnest  is  absolutely  fatal 
to  it.”  ^ 

A skilful  speaker  pursues  one  of  two  courses : he 
dwells  upon  topics  which  are  likely  to  call  out  the  feel- 
ings he  wishes  to  excite ; or  he  expresses  his  own 
feelings  in  such  a manner  as  to  communicate  them  to 
others. 

When  the  former  method  is  pursued,  time  enough 
must  be  taken  to  let  the  appropriate  topics  produce 
their  full  effect.  What  is  addressed  to  the  understand- 
ing cannot  be  stated  too  briefly,  if  so  stated  that  its 
bearing  and  force  are  thoroughly  understood  : but  Per- 
suasion may  go  on  long  after  the  feelings  have  been 
reached ; for  it  is  necessary,  not  only  that  the  feelings 
should  take  the  right  direction,  but  that  they  should 
take  it  with  a Avill. 

Hence,  the  advantages  of  copious  detail,  which  holds 
the  interest  long  and  closely;  of  individual  instances, 
which  touch  the  imagination  or  the  heart ; of  associat- 
ing the  new  topic  with  previous  emotional  experiences ; 

1 Newman:  Lectures  on  University  Subjects,  pp.  192, 193. 


Chap.  V.| 


PERSUASION. 


241 


of  rousing  tire  feelings  about  something  which  is,  per- 
haps, even  irrelevant,  and  then  turning  the  stream  into 
the  desired  channel;  of  indirect  suggestion,  — as  by 
reference  to  some  one  effect,  in  itself  slight,  but  serv- 
ing to  exemplify  numerous  other  effects  and  to  force 
the  mind  to  think  of  their  common  caused 

If  a speaker  desires  to  kindle  the  enthusiasm  of  others 
from  his  own,  he  may  adopt  either  “ the  exag-  ^xagger- 
gerating  or  the  extenuating  ^ In  the  c.Ktemmting 

former,  he  expresses  all  that  he  feels,  or  more,  ““tiioas. 
and  trusts  to  the  contagion  of  sympathy ; in  the  latter, 
lie  pretends  to  suppress  his  emotions,  that  the  apparent 
difficulty  may  appear  to  enliance  their  force  ; and  he 
may  combine  the  two,  by  at  last  allowing  the  long- 
restrained  torrent  free  course,  as  if  he  could  not  hold  it 
back. 

A masterly  instance  of  this  combination  is  given  by  Shakspere 
in  Mark  Antony’s  address  to  the  Romans  over  the  dead  body  of 
Ca3sar.® 

“ I come  not,  friends,  to  steal  away  your  hearts : 

I am  no  orator,  as  Brutus  is. 

But,  a.s  you  know  me  all,  a plain,  blunt  man, 

That  love  my  friend;  and  that  they  know  full  well 
That  gave  me  public  leave  to  speak  of  him. 

For  I have  neither  wit,  nor  words,  nor  worth. 

Action,  nor  utterance,  nor  the  power  of  speech. 

To  stir  men’s  blood:  I only  speak  right  on; 

I tell  you  that  which  you  yourselves  do  know. 

Show  you  sweet  Ca}sar’s  wounds,  poor,  poor  dumb  mouth.s. 

And  bid  them  speak  for  me : but  were  I Brutus, 

And  Brutus  Antony,  there  were  an  Antony 
Would  rutile  up  your  spirits,  and  put  a tongue 
In  every  wound  of  Ca:sar  that  should  move 
The  stones  of  Rome  to  rise  and  mutiny.” 


1 Sec  p.  127. 

2 Whately;  Rhetoric,  part  ii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  v. 
s Shakspere;  .Julius  Ca;sar.  act  iii.  scene  ii. 


242 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


To  successful  Persuasion  it  is,  of  course,  essential 
that  a speaker  should  get  on  the  rig'ht  side  of  his 
audience.  They  should  believe  him,  says 
a speaker  Ai’istotle,  to  have  iudgmeut,  virtue,  and 

Bhouklhave.  , , ■ , • , , , 

^ooci“Wili  toAVcirci  tliGiii  I j tlitit  lie 

may  be  able  to  see  the  truth ; virtue,  that  he  may 

have  the  desire  to  tell  the  truth,  the  whole  truth, 

and  nothing  but  the  truth  ; good-will  to  his  hearers, 

that  he  may  have  the  disposition  to  look  at  the  truth 

from  their  point  of  view  and  to  shape  it  to  their  advan- 


tage. 

Such  a reputation  will  stand  him  in  good  stead  even 
when  it  should  not  do  so.  A character  for  uprightness 
adds  weight  to  arguments  upon  purely  intellectual  ques- 
tions, or  gives  a judicial  character  to  the  reasoning  of  a 
professed  advocate;  a reputation  for  ability  to  judge 
gives  additional  credit  to  statements  about  matters  of 
fact,  as  to  which  the  ability  to  observe  is  of  most  con- 
sequence ; a supposed  friendliness  renders  advice  ac- 
ceptable even  when  it  is  in  opposition  to  the  interests 
of  those  to  wJiom  it  is  given.  On  the  other  hand,  some 
public  men  have  such  bad  reputations  that  their  really 
honest  or  shrewd  opinions  go  for  little  even  with  those 
to  whom  they  mean  well. 

A reputation  for  eloquence,  on  the  contrary,  is  an 
obstacle  to  success  in  Persuasion.  It  procures  clients. 
Reputation  jui'ies  Oil  their  guard.  It  attracts 

for  eloquence,  audicnces,  but  it  deepens  the  hostility 

of  those  who  disagree  with  the  speaker.  So  long  as 
the  audience  are  thinking  about  an  orator’s  eloquence 
or  his  reputation  for  eloquence,  so  long  he  is  not  elo- 
quent, so  far  as  they  are  concerned.  Until  his  eloquence 


1 Rhetoric,  part  ii.  chap.  i.  sect.  v. 


Chap.  V.] 


PERSUASION. 


243 


makes  them  forget  Ids  reputation  for  eloquence,  he  is 
unsuccessful. 

In  making  Queen  Caroline,  after  listening  to  Jeanie  Deans,  say 
“ This  is  eloquence,”  ^ Scott  does  not  pay  Jeanie  a compliment. 

In  .spite  of  his  personal  defects.  Fox  so  fully  possessed  ” the  art 
of  captivating  the  attention  that  you  forgot  the  man  entirely  and 
thought  only  of  the  subject.”  ^ 

‘‘lu  his  [Erskine’s]  reply,  though  abounding  ■with  eloquence 
and  ornament,  no  topic  was  admitted  that  did  not  bear  directly 
upon  the  verdict.”  ^ 

“ The  extraordinary  impression  produced  by  him  [Lord  Plunket] 
in  Parliament,  was  caused  by  the  whole  texture  of  his  speeches  being 
argumentative;  the  diction  plain,  but  forcible;  the  turn  often  epi- 
grammatic ; the  figures  as  natural  as  they  were  unexpected ; so  that 
what  had  occurred  to  no  one  seemed  as  if  every  one  ought  to  have 
anticipated  it;  but  all  — strong  expressions,  terse  epigram,  happy 
figure  — were  wholly  subservient  to  the  purpose  in  view,  and  were 
manifestly  perceived  never  to  be  themselves  the  object,  never  to 
be  introduced  for  their  own  sake ; they  were  the  sparks  thrown  off 
by  the  motion  of  the  engine,  not  firew’orks  to  amuse  by  their  singu- 
larity, or  please  by  their  beauty;  all  was  for  use,  not  ornament;  all 
for  w'ork,  nothing  for  display;  the  subject  ever  in  view,  the  speaker 
never,  either  of  himself  or  of  the  audience.  This,  indeed,  is  the 
invariable  result  of  the  highest  eloquence,  of  the  greatest  perfection 
of  the  art,  and  its  complete  concealment.  In  all  great  brassages, 
the  artist  himself,  wrapt  up  in  his  woi’k,  is  never  thought  of  by  Ins 
hearers,  equally  wrapt  up  in  it,  till  the  moment  when  they  can 
pause  and  take  breath,  and  reflect  on  the  mastery  which  has  been 
exercised  over  them,  and  can  then  first  think  of  the  master.”  ® 

“The  passages  which  delight  the  general  audience,  and  make 
the  speech,  when  published,  agreeable  to  the  reader,  are  not  the 
passages  which  carry  conviction  to  the  mind,  or  advance  the  real 
merits  of  the  cause  with  those  who  are  to  decide  it.  He  who  looks 
to  this  puiqiose  only  must  never  lose  sight  of  any  important  fact  or 
argument  that  properly  belongs  to  or  arises  out  of  the  cause.  He 

1 Tlie  Heart  of  Jlid  Lothian,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xii. 

2 Abinger:  Autobiography,  pp.  58,  Go.  See,  also,  Quintilian:  Inst.  Orator, 
viii.  iii.  xiii. 

* Brougham:  Statesmen  of  the  Time  of  George  III.,  vol.  ii.  p.  339. 

II* 


24'4 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


must  show  that  his  mind  is  busied  about  nothing  else.  He  must 
be  always  working  upon  the  concrete,  and  pointing  to  his  conclu- 
sion. He  must  disdain  all  jest,  ornament,  or  sarcasm,  that  does 
not  fall  directly  in  his  way  and  seem  to  be  so  unavoidable  that  it 
must  strike  everybody  who  thinks  of  the  facts.  He  must  not  look 
for  a peg  to  hang  any  thing  upon,  be  it  ever  so  precious  or  so  fine. 
He  must  rouse  in  the  minds  of  the  judges  or  the  jury  all  the  excite- 
ment which  he  feels  about  the  cause  himself,  and  about  nothing 
but  the  cause ; and  to  that  he  must  stick  closely,  and  irpon  that 
reason  so  vehemently  and  so  conclusively,  that  the  greater  part  of 
the  audience  will  not  understand  him,  and  those  who  read  his 
speech  afterwards  will  not  be  able  to  comprehend  it,  without  hav- 
ing present  to  their  memories  all  the  facts  and  all  the  history  of 
the  cause.”  ^ 

Hence,  public  speakers  seek  to  establish  a reputation 
for  something  else  than  eloquence,  to  attribute  their 
success  to  some  other  cause,  or  to  prove  that  it  has  been 
won  in  some  other  field  than  that  on  which  they  are 
entering. 

Cicero  begins  his  oration  for  the  poet  Archias  with  the  remark : 
“ If  I have  any  ability,  — and  I feel  how  little  that  is,”  &c. ; and 
his  oration  for  Quintius  by  saying  that  he  endeavors  to  make 
amends  for  his  want  of  talent  by  appli cation. ^ 

During  the  most  famous  period  of  Scaidett’s  career  as  leader  of 
the  English  bar,  he  was  reputed  to  be  the  luckiest  lawyer  of  his 
time. 

Yet  neither  Cicero  nor  Scarlett  was  noted  for  his  modesty. 

1 Abinger : Autobiography,  p.  72. 

2 See,  also,  Webster:  Exordium  in  the  White  murder  case,  quoted  p.  245. 


CUAP.  VI  j INTRODUCTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS. 


245 


CHAPTER  VI. 

INTRODUCTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS. 

Other  things  being  equal,  the  shorter  the  exordium 
or  the  peroration  the  better.  The  following  paragraph, 
with  which  Webster  opened  the  White  murder  case, 
is  a model  in  its  kind  : — 

“ I jmi  little  accustomed,  gentlemen,  to  the  part  which  I am  now 
attempting  to  perform.  Hardly  more  than  once  or  twice  has  it 
happened  to  me  to  be  concerned  on  the  side  of  the  Government  in 
any  criminal  prosecution  whatever;  and  never,  until  the  present 
occasion,  in  any  case  affecting  life.i 

“ But  I very  much  regret  that  it  should  have  been  thought  neces- 
sary to  suggest  to  jmu  that  I am  brought  here  to  ‘ hurry  you  against 
tlie  law  and  beyond  the  evidence.’  I hope  I have  too  much  regard 
for  justice,  and  too  much  respect  for  ray  own  character,  to  attempt 
either;  and,  were  I to  make  such  attempt,  I am  sure  that  in  this 
court  nothing  can  be  carried  against  the  law,  and  that  gentlemen , 
intelligent  and  just  as  you  are,  are  not,  by  any  power,  to  be  hurried 
beyond  the  evidence.  Though  I could  well  have  wished  to  shun 
this  occasion,  I have  not  felt  at  liberty  to  withhold  my  professional 
assistance,  when  it  is  supposed  that  I may  be  in  some  degree  useful 
in  investigating  and  discovering  the  truth  respecting  this  most  ex- 
traordinary murder.  It  has  seemed  to  be  a duty  incumbent  on  me, 
as  on  every  other  citizen,  to  do  ray  best  and  my  utmost  to  bring 
to  light  the  perpetrators  of  this  crime.  Against  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar,  as  an  individual,  I cannot  have  the  slightest  prejudice. 
I wmuld  not  do  him  the  smallest  injury  or  injustice;  but  I do 
not  affect  to  be  indifferent  to  the  difscovery  and  the  punishment 
of  this  deep  guilt.  I cheerfully  share  in  the  opprobrium,  how 
great  soever  it  may  be,  which  is  cast  on  those  who  feel  and  mani- 
fest an  anxious  concern  that  all  who  had  a part  in  planning,  or  a 


1 See  also  Cicero:  Oratio  in  Caec.  (Divinatio)  i.  i. 


24G 


ARGUMENTATIVE  COMPOSITION.  [Book  II. 


liaiid  in  executing,  this  deed  of  midnight  assassination,  may  be 
brought  to  answer  for  their  enormous  crime  at  the  bar  of  public 
justice.”  1 

The  following  paragrapli,  which  forms  the  conclusion 
of  Webster’s  address  on  the  completion  of  the  Bunker 
Hill  Monument,  is  another  model : — 

“ And  now,  friends  and  fellow-citizens,  it  is  time  to  bring  this 
discourse  to  a close. 

“ We  have  indulged  in  gi-atifying  recollections  of  the  past,  in  the 
prosperity  and  pleasures  of  the  present,  and  in  high  hopes  for  the 
future.  But  let  us  remember  that  we  have  duties  and  obligations 
to  perform,  corresponding  to  the  blessings  which  we  enjoy.  Let 
us  remember  the  trust,  the  sacred  trust,  attaching  to  the  rich  in- 
heritance which  we  have  received  from  our  fathers.  Let  us  feel 
our  personal  responsibility,  to  the  full  extent  of  our  power  and 
influence,  for  the  preservation  of  the  principles  of  civil  and  relig- 
ious liberty.  And  let  us  remember  that  it  is  only  religion,  and 
morals,  and  knowledge,  that  can  make  men  respectable  and  happy, 
under  any  form  of  government.  Let  us  hold  fast  the  great  truth, 
that  communities  are  responsible,  as  well  as  individuals;  that  no 
government  is  respectable,  which  is  not  just ; that  without  unspotted 
purity  of  public  faith,  without  sacred  public  principle,  fidelity,  and 
honor,  no  mere  forms  of  government,  no  machinery  of  laws,  can 
give  dignity  to  political  society.  In  our  day  and  generation  let  us 
seek  to  raise  and  improve  the  moral  sentiment,  so  that  we  may 
look,  not  for  a degraded,  but  for  an  elevated  and  improved  future. 
And  when  both  we  and  our  children  shall  have  been  consigned  to 
the  house  appointed  for  all  living,  may  love  of  country  and  pride  of 
country  glow  with  equal  fervor  among  those  to  whom  our  names 
and  our  blood  shall  have  descended!  And  then,  when  honored 
and  decrepit  age  shall  lean  against  the  base  of  this  monument,  and 
troops  of  ingenuous  youth  shall  be  gathered  round  it,  and  when  the 
one  shall  speak  to  the  other  of  its  objects,  the  purposes  of  its  con- 
struction, and  the  great  and  glorious  events  with  which  it  is  con- 
nected, there  shall  rise  from  every  youthful  breast  the  ejaculation, 

‘ Thank  God,. I — I also  — am  an  American!  ’ ” 


1 Webster:  Works,  vol.  vi.  p.  51. 


2 Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  106. 


Chap.  VI.]  INTRODUCTIONS  AND  CONCLUSIONS. 


247 


Young  writers  often  have  to  he  told  to  begin  at  the 
beginning,  and  to  end  at  the  end.  They  do  not  know 
how  to  get  at  a subject,  nor  how  to  get  aivay  from  it, 
as  an  aAvkward  visitor  does  not  know  how  to  get  into  or 
out  of  a drawing-room.  They  should  make  it  a rule  not 
to  put  in  a Word  of  introduction  that  is  not  closely  con- 
nected with  what  is  to  follow  and  necessary  to  prepare 
the  way  for  it,  — by  giving  necessary  information,  by  en- 
gaging attention,  or  by  winning  regard  ; and  not  to  add 
a word  at  the  end  beyond  what  is  needed  to  strengthen 
the  conclusion,  to  recapitulate  arguments,  or  to  point  a 
moral.  The  only  valuable  exordium  is  that  which  leads 
up  to  the  subject?  the  only  valuable  peroration,  that 
which  grows  out  of  the  subject.  “What  is  he  coming 
to?”  “Will  he  never  get  through?”  are  fatal  questions. 

The  objection  which  is  sometimes  made  to  abrupt  be- 
ginnings or  endings  is  not  so  well  founded.  It  is  far 
better  to  take  firm  hold  of  the  subject  at  once  than  to 
approach  it  “ doubtfully  and  far  away  ; ” and  the  mental 
shock  caused  by  a sudden  ending  may  be  just  what  is 
needed  to  clench  the  argument. 

' See  Sir  Arthur  Helps:  Social  Pressure,  chap.  viii.  (The  Art  of  Leaving 
Off.) 


APPENDIX. 


I. 

GENERAL  RULES  FOR  PUNCTUATION. 


Judgment  determines  the  relations,  whether  of 
thought  or  of  language,  which  marks  of  punctuation 
indicate  ; taste  determines  the  choice,  when  good  usage 
admits  of  a choice,  between  two  modes  of  indicating 
those  relations : judgment  and  taste  are,  therefore,  the 
guides  to  correct  punctuation. 

Since  punctuation  is  one  of  the  means  by  which  a 
writer  communicates  Avith  his  readers,  it  naturally  va- 
ries Avith  thought  and  expression : the  punctuation  of 
“ Tristram  Shandy  ” will  therefore  differ  from  that  of 
“ The  Rambler ; ” and  in  a less  degree  the  punctuation 
of  Burke’s  Orations,  from  that  of  INIacaulay’s  Essays. 
Hence  no  one  Avriter  — even  were  books  printed  cor- 
rectly, as  is  rarely  the  case  — can  be  taken  as  a model. 
Hence,  too,  a system  of  rules  loaded  with  exceptions, 
though  founded  upon  the  best  usage  and  framed  Avith 
the  greatest  care,  is  as  likely  to  fetter  thought  as  to  aid 
in  its  communication. 

Assistance  may,  however,  be  obtained  from  a few  sim- 
ple rules  founded  upon  the  principle  that  the  purpose 
of  every  point  is  to  indicate  to  the  eye  the  construction  of 


250 


APPENDIX. 


the  sentence  in  which  it  occurs,  — a principle  which  is 
best  illustrated  by, examples  of  sentences  correctly  con- 
structed as  well  as  correctly  punctuated.  One  who 
knows  few  rules,  but  who  has  mastered  the  fundamental 
principles  of  construction,  will  punctuate  far  better  than 
one  Avho  slavishly  follows  a set  of  formulas.  The  latter 
will  not  know  how  to  act  in  a case  not  provided  for  in 
any  formula:  the  former  will  readily  understand  that 
the  letter  of  a rule  may  be  violated,  in  order  to  give 
effect  to  its  spirit ; that  ambiguity  and  obscurity  should, 
above  all  things,  be  avoided  ; and  that  marks  of  punctu- 
ation which  are  required  on  principle  may  be  omitted 
when  they  are^  disagreeable  to  the  eye  or  confusing  to 
the  mind. 

Some  rules  are  common  to  spoken  and  to  written  dis- 
course : but  the  former  is  directed  to  the  ear,  the  latter 
to  the  eye ; and  the  pauses  required  by  the  ear  or  the 
voice  do  not  always  correspond  with  the  stops  required 
by  the  eye.  A speaker  is  often  obliged  to  pause  between 
words  which  should  not  be  separated  by  marks  of  punc- 
tuation ; or  he  is  carried  by  the  current  of  emotion  over 
places  at  which  marks  of  punctuation  would  be  indis- 
pensable : he  has  inflection,  emphasis,  gesture,  in  addi- 
tion to  pauses,  to  aid  him  in  doing  what  the  writer  has 
to  do  with  stops  alone. 

A slight  knowledge  of  punctuation  suffices  to  show 
the  absurdity  of  the  old  rules,  — that  a reader  should 
pause  at  a comma  long  enough  to  count  one,  at  a semi- 
colon long  enough  to  count  two,  and  at  a colon  long 
enough  to  count  three.  The  truth  is  that,  in  some  of 
the  most  common  cases  in  which  a comma  is  necessary, 
a speaker  would  make  no  pause.  For  example  : 

No,  sir.  Thank  you,  sir. 


PUNCTUATION. 


251 


On  the  other  hand,  sentences  often  occur  in  which  a 
comma  can  at  no  point  be  properly  inserted,  but  which 
no  one  can  read  without  making  one  or  more  pauses 
before  the  end.  For  example  : — . 

The  art  of  letters  is  the  method  by  which  a writer  brings  out 
ill  words  tlie  thoughts  which  im^iress  him. 

I lately  heard  a man  of  thought  and  energy  contrasting  the 
modern  want  of  ardor  and  movement  with  what  he  remembered  in 
Ills  own  youth. 

The  great  use  of  a college  education  is  to  teach  a boy  how  to 
rely  on  himself. 


In  punctuation  the  following  points  are  used : — 


Comma  .... 
Semicolon  .... 

Colon 

Period 

Interrogation  Point 
Exclamation  Point  . 

Dash 

IMarks  of  Parenthesis 
Apostrophe 
Hyphen  .... 
Marks  of  Quotation 


L f J 

[:] 

[.] 

[n 

[!] 

[-] 

. . . • [()] 

[’] 

[-] 

. . [ “ ” or  ‘ ’ ] 


No  one  of  these  points  should  be  used  exclusively  or 
to  excess ; for  each  has  some  duty  which  no  other 
point  can  perform.  There  are,  however,  a number  of 
cases  in  which  the  choice  between  two  points  — as 
eomma  and  semicolon,  colon  and  semicolon  — is  deter- 
mined by  taste  rather  than  by  principle. 

A student  of  punctuation  should  ask  himself  why  in 
a given  case  to  put  in  a stop  rather  than  why  to  leave 
one  out ; for  the  insertion  of  unnecessary  stops  is,  on 
the  whole,  more  likely  to  mislead  a reader  than  is  the 
omission  of  necessary  ones. 


252 


APPENDIX. 


Perhaps  the  most  intelligible,  as  well  as  the  most 
compendious,  method  of  giving  a general  idea  of  the 
principal  uses  of  the  several  marks  of  punctuation  is 
to  enlarge  a short  sentence  by  making  successive  addi- 
tions to  it. 


Examples. 

1.  John  went  to  town. 

2.  John  Williams  went  to  the 
city. 

3.  Popular  John  Williams 
boldly  went  to  the  city  of  New 
York. 

4.  Popular  and  handsome 
John  Williams  boldly  went  to 
the  city  of  New  York. 

5.  Popular,  handsome  John 
Williams  boldly  went  to  the 
city  of  New  Yoi'k. 

6.  Popular,  handsome,  and 
wealthy  John  AVilliams  boldly 
went  to  the  city  of  New  York. 

7.  Popular,  handsome,  and 
wealthy  John  Williams,  son  of 
Samuel  Williams,  boldly  went 
to  the  city  of  New  York. 

8.  I assure  you,  gentlemen  of 
the  jury,  that  popular,  hand- 
some, and  wealthy  John  Wil- 
liams, son  of  Samuel  Williams, 
boldly  went  to  the  city  of  New 
York. 

9 (1).  I assure  you,  gentle- 
men of  the  jury,  that  popular, 
handsome,  and  wealthy  John 
Williams,  son  of  Samuel  Wil- 


Remarks. 

1 to  4.  Complete  sentences 
requiring  a period  at  the  end 
(XV.).  No  other  point  possi- 
ble, because  words  closely  con- 
nected stand  next  to  one  an- 
other, and  the  construction  is 
plain. 

5.  Comma  after  “popular” 
in  place  of  “ and  ” (I.  e). 

6.  Comma  before  “ and,”  be- 
cause each  of  the  three  adjec- 
tives stands  in  a similar  relation 
to  the  noun  (I.  ff). 

7.  “ Son  of  Samuel  Wil- 
liams” between  commas,  be- 
cause in  apposition  with  “ John 
AVilliams  ” (II.  a),  and  paren- 
thetical (VI.  a). 

8.  “ Gentlemen  of  the  jury” 
between  commas,  because  indi- 
cating to  whom  the  whole  sen- 
tence, one  part  as  much  as 
another,  is  addressed  (III.  e),  and 
because  parenthetical  (VI.  a). 

9 (1).  “With  the  boldness 
of  a lion  ” between  commas,  — 
though  its  equivalent  “ boldly  ” 
(in  8)  is  not,  — because  the  con- 


PUNCTUATION. 


253 


liaras,  went,  with  the  boldness 
of  a lion,  to  the  city  of  New 
York. 

9 (2).  I assure  you,  gentle- 
men of  the  jury,  that  popular, 
handsome,  and  wealthy  John 
Williams,  son  of  Samuel  AVil- 
liams,  went  with  the  boldness  of 
a lion  to  the  city  of  New  York. 

10  (1).  I assure  you,  gentle- 
men of  the  juiy,  that  popular, 
handsome,  and  wealthy  John 
Williams,  son  of  Samuel  Wil- 
liams, who  is  now  over  seventy 
years  of  age,  boldly  went  to  the 
city  of  New  York,  that  city 
which  is  so  well  governed. 

10  (2).  I assure  you,  gentle- 
men of  the  jury,  that  popular, 
handsome,  and  wealthy  John 
Williams,  son  of  Samuel  Wil- 
liams, who  is  now  over  seventy 
years  of  age,  boldly  went  to  the 
city  of  New  York,  — that  city 
which  is  so  well  governed. 

11.  I assure  you,  gentlemen 
of  the  jury,  that  popular,  hand- 
some, and  wealtliy  John  AVil- 
liams,  son  of  Samuel  AVilliams, 
who  is  now  over  seventy  years 
of  age,  boldly  went  to  the  city  of 
New  York,  — that  city  which, 
as  everybody  knows,  is  well 
governed. 

13.  To  show  you  how  well 
governed  that  city  is,  I need 


struction  of  an  adverbial  phrase 
is  more  uncertain  than  that  of 
a single  w’ord  (IV.  a). 

9 (2).  Commas  omitted  after 
“went”  and  “lion,”  because 
disagreeable  to  the  eye  (see 
p.  250),  — a practical  reason 
which  in  this  case  overrules  the 
theoretical  reason  for-  their  in- 
sertion. 

10  (1).  Comma  betw'een  “ AA'il- 
liams  ” and  “ who,”  because  the 
“wdio”  clause  makes  an  addi- 
tional statement  (V.  a),  in  the 
nature  of  a parenthesis  (VI.  a). 
No  comma  betw'een  “ city  ” and 
“ which,”  because  the  “ which  ” 
clause  is  an  integral  part  of  the 
sentence,  and  is  necessary  to  the 
sense  (V.  h). 

10  (2).  Dash  added  to  comma 
betw'een  “York”  and  “that” 
to  relieve  the  eye  from  too  many 
commas  near  together  (A^I.  e), 
— a reason  strengthened  in 
paragraph  11  by  the  additional 
commas. 

11.  “As  evei^body  knows  ” 
between  commas,  because  it  is 
a parenthetical  expression  which 
can  be  lifted  out  of  the  sentence 
without  injuring  the  construc- 
tion (VI.  a). 


12.  klarks  of  quotation  to 
indicate  that  the  “ Quarterly 


254 


APPENDIX. 


only  refer  to  the  “ Quarterly 
Review,”  vol.  cxl.  p.  120,  and 
” The  AVeekly  Clarion,”  No.  xl. 

p.  19. 

13  (1).  The  first  tells  us 
about  a man  who  is  called  John 
Doe;  the  second,  about  Rich- 
ard Roe.  Doe  was  charged  with 
larceny;  Roe,  with  breach  of 
trust. 

13(2).  The  first  tells  us  about 
a man  who  is  called  John  Doe, 
the  second  about  Richard  Roe._ 
Doe  was  charged  with  larceny, 
Roe  with  breach  of  trust. 

14.  Mr.  AVilliams  was  bold. 


15  (1).  Jf  Mr.  Williams  was 
bold,  he  was  also  prudent. 

15  (2).  Mr.  Williams  was  as 
prudent  as  he  was  bold. 

16  (1).  Mr.  Williams  was 
bold,  and  he  was  also  prudent. 

16  (2).  Mr.  Williams  had  all 
the  boldness  of  the  lion;  and 
he  also  had  the  wisdom  of  the 
serpent. 

17  (1).  Mr.  Williams  had  all 
the  boldness  of  the  lion ; and  he 
also  had  the  wisdom  of  the  ser- 
pent : but  he  lacked  the  inno- 
cence of  the  dove. 


Review  ” and  “ The  Weekly 
Clarion  ’ ’ are  called  by  their 
names  (XVII.  a).  Periods  after 
cxl.  and  xl.,  because  in  better 
taste  and  more  agreeable  to  the 
eye  than  commas  (XX.  e). 

13  (1).  Commas  after  “ sec- 
ond” and  “ Roe,”  to  take  the 
id  ace  of  words  necessary  to  com- 
plete the  sense  (VII.  a).  In 
this  case  semicolons  required 
between  the  clauses. 

13  (2).  Commas  omitted  after 
“ second  ” and  “ Roe,”  because 
the  sense  is  plain  without  them 
(VII.  h).  In  this  case  commas 
required  between  the  clauses. 

14.  Period  after  ilr. , an  abbre- 
viation (XVI.  a).  So,  too,  in 
paragraph  12,  after  “vol.,” 
“ No.,”  “ p.” 

15  (1).  Comma  required  be- 
tween the  principal  and  the 
dependent  clause  (VIII.  a). 

15  (2).  No  comma  required, 
because  the  principal  clause 
merges  in  the  dependent  one 
(VIII.  h). 

16  (1).  Two  independent 
clauses  separated  by  a comma 
(IX.  a). 

16  (2).  Two  independent 
clauses  separated  by  a semicolon 
(IX.  h). 

17  (1).  Colon  after  “ser- 
pent ” to  indicate  that  the  clause 
after  it  is  balanced  against  the 
two  clauses  befoi'e  it  (XII.  a). 


PUNCTUATION. 


255 


17  (2).  Mr.  Williams  had 
all  the  boldness  of  the  lion,  and 
he  also  had  the  wisdom  of  the 
serpent;  but  he  lacked  the  inno- 
cence of  the  dove. 

18  (1).  Mr.  Williams  had  all 
the  boldness  of  the  lion ; and  he 
also  had  the  ^visdoip  of  the  ser- 
pent : but  he , lacked  the  inno- 
cence of  the  dove;  he  lacked 
simplicity;  he  lacked  purity; 
he  lacked  truthfulness. 

18  (2).  l\Ir.  Williams  had 
all  the  boldness  of  the  lion,  and 
he  also  had  the  wisdom  of  the 
serpent ; but  he  lacked  the  inno- 
cence of  the  dove,  — he  lacked 
simplicity,  he  lacked  purity, 
and  he  lacked  truthfulness. 

19.  Mr.  Williams  had  all  the 
boldness  of  the  lion ; and  he  also 
had  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent: 
but  he  lacked  the  innocence  of 
the  dove;  he  lacked  simplicity; 
he  lacked  purity;  he  lacked 
truthfulness,  — w'hat  good  thing 
did  he  not  lack  ? 

20  (1).  Do  you  suppose  that 
l\Ir.  Williams  went  to  New  York 
for  an  honorable  pui'pose  ? that 
he  had  no  improper  motive  ? no 
criminal  design? 

20  (2).  Do  you  suppose  that 
Mr.  Williams  went  to  New  York 
for  an  honorable  purpose,  that 
he  had  no  improper  motive,  no 
criminal  design? 


17  (2).  Same  effect  produced 
by  substituting  comma  for  semi- 
colon, and  semicolon  for  colon 

(XU  h). 

18  (1).  Series  of  short  sen- 
tences after  “ dove  ” separated 
by  semicolons  (XI.  a). 


18  (2).  Comma  and  dash  sub- 
stituted for  semicolon,  because 
succeeding  clauses  no  longer 
in  a series  with  the  preceding 
one,  but  in  apposition  with  it 
(II.  d). 

19.  Dash  rendered  necessary 
by  the  sudden  change  of  con- 
.struction  (XIV.  a).  Interroga- 
tion point  to  indicate  a direct 
question  (XV.). 


20  (1).  Interrogation  points 
to  indicate  successive  questions ; 
small  letters  instead'  of  capitals 
to  indicate  closeness  of  con- 
nection, like  that  of  indepen- 
dent clauses  in  an  affirmative 
sentence  (XV.  a). 

20  (2).  Same  result  reached 
by  substitution  of  commas  for 
interrogation  points. 


256 


APPENDIX. 


21.  Honor!  his  honor! 


22.  I tell  you  that  his  purpose 
was  dishonorable;  that  his  mo- 
tive was  most  improper;  that 
his  design  was  both  legally  and 
morally  criminal. 

23.  He  was,  as  I have  said, 
bold : much  may  be  accom- 
plished by  boldness. 

24.  His  purposes  were:  first, 
to  meet  his  confederates;  sec- 
ondly, to  escape  detection. 

25.  Such  were  Mr.  Williams’s 
purposes,  and  such  were  his  con- 
federates’ purposes. 

26.  Such  were  Mr.  Williams’s 
purposes,  and  such  were  his  con- 
federates’ purposes,  — purposes 
which  I will  not  characterize  as 
they  deseiwe. 

27  (1).  “ How  do  you  know 
this  ? ” I am  asked. 

27  (2).  I am  asked,  “How 
do  you  know  this  ? ” 

27  (3).  I am  asked:  “How 
do  you  know  this  ? On  what 
evidence  is  the  charge  found- 
ed? ” 

27  (4).  I am  asked  how  I 
know  this,  on  what  evidence  I 
make  the  charge. 

28.  I answer  that  I have 
known  it  since  March,  ’67. 

29.  I answer  that  I have 
known  it  since  March,  1867 ; 
since  his  father-in-law’s  de- 


21.  Exclamation  points  as 
used  in  sentences  closely  con- 
nected (XV.  b'). 

22.  Semicolons  to  separate  de- 
pendent expressions  in  a series 
(X.  a). 

23.  Colon  between  short  sen- 
tences not  closely  connected 
(XL  b). 

24.  Colon  before  particulars 
formally  stated  (XIH.  a) . 

25.  Apostrophes  to  indicate  the 
possessive  of  a singular,  and  that 
of  a plural,  noun  (XIX.  c). 

26.  Dash  to  give  rhetorical 
emphasis  (XIV.  c). 


27  (1  to  4).  Quotation  points 
used  with  a direct  question 
(XVII.  a).  Interrogation  point 
enough  if  question  comes  first. 
If  it  comes  last,  comma  used 
when  but  one  question  asked 
(XIH.  c);  colon,  when  two  or 
more  (XIH.  b).  Indirect  ques- 
tion punctuated  like  affirmative 
sentence. 

28.  Apostrophe  to  indicate 
omission  of  figures  (XIX.  b). 

29.  Hyphens  to  join  parts  of 
a derivative  word  (XVHI.  b). 


cease. 


PUNCTUATION. 


257 


30.  The  authorities  on  which 
I shall  rely  are:  11  Mass.  Rep. 
150;  2 Kent’s  Coin.  115-126. 

31  (1).  I beg  you  to  give 
close  attention  to  these  author- 
ities, which,  though  not  recent, 
are  important,  pertinent  to  the 
case  in  hand,  and,  therefore, 
not  to  be  slurred,  neglected,  or 
sneered  at. 

31  (2).  I beg  you  to  give 
close  attention  to  these  anthor- 
ities,  which  though  not  recent 
are  important,  pertinent  to  the 
case  in  hand,  and  therefore 
not  to  be  slurred,  neglected,  or 
sneered  at. 


30.  Colon  to  supply  ellipsis  of 
“ the  following  ” (VII.  e).  Style 
of  quoting  law  books. 

31  (1).  Every  comma  inserted 
in  obedience  to  some  rule. 


31  (2).  Commas  omitted  for 
reasons  of  taste  and  for  the  com- 
fort of  the  eye. 


I. 

WORDS  IN  A SERIES. 

(1)  No  comma  [,]  is  inserted  before  or  after  eonjunc- 
tions  — such  as  and,  or,  nor,  but,  yet  — when  employed 
to  conneet  two  words  belonging  to  the  same  part  of 
speech  and  in  the  same  construction  (a),  or  to  con- 
nect two  expressions  whieh  are  in  the  same  construc- 
tion, and  are  used  as  if  they  belonged  to  the  same  part 
of  speech  (5). 

(2)  A comma  should,  however,  be  inserted  before  the 
conjunction  when  the  preceding  word  is  qualified  by  an 
expression  that  is  not  intended  to  qualify  the  word  after 
the  conjunction  (c);  or  when  the  word  after  the  con- 
junction is  followed  by  an  expression  which  qualifies 
that  word  alone  {d). 

(3)  A comma  is  required  between  such  words  or 


AFFENDIX. 


i;58 

expressions,  when  they  are  not  connected  by  a conjunc- 
tion (e)  ; or  when  tliere  are  more  than  two  such  words 
or  expressions  (/),  even  though  a conjunction  is  put 
before  the  last  one  in  the  series  (y).  If,  however,  the 
word  or  expression  following  the  conjunction  is  more 
closely  connected  with  the  word  or  expression  imme- 
diately preceding  it  than  with  the  other  words  in  the 
series,  the  comma  is  omitted  (A). 

(4)  If  the  conjunction  is  repeated  before  each  word 
or  expression  in  the  series,  the  comma  is  usually  omitted 
where  the  Avords  between  which  the  conjunction  stands 
are  closely  united  in  meaning  (f),  and  is  sometimes 
inserted  where  they  are  not  so  united  (y). 

(5)  If  the  series  is  composed  of  several  words  un- 
connected by  conjunctions,  a comma  is  put  after  the 
last  word,  in  order  to  indicate  that  all  the  words  in 
the  series  bear  the  same  relation  to  the  succeeding 
part  of  the  sentence  (A)  ; but  sometimes,  as  where  the 
sentence  is  so  short  as  to  present  no  difficulty,  this 
rule  is  disregarded  (Z).  If  the  succeeding  part  of  the 
sentence  is  connected  with  the  last  word  in  the  series, 
but  not  with  the  preceding  words,  the  comma  is 
omitted  (m). 

(a)  Sink  o)-  swim,  live  or  die,  survive  or  perish,  I give  my  hand 
and  my  heart  to  this  vote. 

(a)  A just  hut  melancholy  reflection  embittered,  however,  the 
noblest  of  human  enjoyments. 

(b)  The  new  order  of  things  was  inducing  laxity  of  manners 
and  a departure  from  the  ancient  strictness. 

(c)  He  suddenly  pZwnyed,  and  sank. 

(c)  Ilis  mind  was  profoundly  thoughtful,  and  vigorous. 

(d)  All  day  he  kept  on  walking,  or  thinking  about  his  mis- 
fortunes. 

(d)  ’Twas  certain  he  could  write,  and  cipher  too. 


PUNCTUATION. 


259 


(e)  Ilis  trees  extended  their  cool,  umbrageous  branches. 

(e)  Kinglake  has  given  Aleck  a great,  handsome  ^ chestnut 
mare. 

(/)  These  are  no  mediaeval  pei'sonages;  they  belong  to  an 
older,  pagan,  mythological  world. 

(y)  This  is  the  best  way  to  strengthen,  refine,  and  enrich  the 
intellectual  powers. 

(y)  lie  had  a hard,  gray,  and  sullen  face,  piercing  black  eyes 
under  bushy  gray  eyebrows,  thin  lips,  and  square  jaw. 

(y)  It  is  the  centre  of  trade,  the  supreme  court  of  fashion, 
the  umpire  of  rival  talents,  and  the  standard  of  things  rare  and 
precious. 

(/i)  I have  had  to  bear  heavy  rains,  to  wrestle  with  great  storms, 
to  fight  my  way  and  hold  my  own  as  well  as  I could. 

(i)  There  speech  and  thought  and  nature  failed  a little. 

(i)  We  bumped  and  scraped  and  rolled  veiy  unpleasantly. 

(y)  For  his  sake,  empires  had  risen,  and  flourished,  and  de- 
cayed. 

((),  (y)  And  feeling  all  along  the  garden  wall. 

Lest  he  should  swoon  and  tumble  and  be  found. 

Crept  to  the  gate,  and  open’d  it,  and  closed. 

{i),{d)  I sat  and  looked  and  listened,  and  thought  how  many 
thousand  years  ago  the  same  thing  was  going  on  in  honor  of 
Bubastis. 

{k)  The  colleges,  the  clergy,  the  lawyers,  the  wealthy  merchants, 
were  against  me. 

(/)  All  great  works  of  genius  come  from  deep,  lonely  thought. 

(1)  Punish,  guide,  instruct  the  boy. 

(in')  Lydgate’s  conceit  was  of  the  arrogant  sort,  never  simper- 
ing, never  impertinent,  never  petty  in  its  claims,  but  benevolently 
contemptuous. 

Ill  the  example  under  (y),  some  writers  "would  omit 
tlie  commas.  Their  omission  would  be  more  usual 
in  a colloquial  than  in  an  oratorical  style,  such  as  that 
of  the  passage  in  Macaulay  from  wliich  the  sentence 
is  taken. 

1 Tliere  is  no  comma  here,  because  the  writer  is  speaking,  not  of  a mare  that 
is  handsome  and  chestnut,  but  of  a chestnut  mare  that  is  handsome. 

12 


260 


APPENDIX. 


IL 

WORDS  IK  APPOSITION. 

A comma  is  put  between  two  words  or  phrases  whicli 
are  in  apposition  with  each  other  (a),  unless  they  are 
used  as  a compound  name  or  a single  phrase  (h').  In- 
stead of  a comma,  the  dash  [ — ] alone  (c),  or  combined 
with  the  comma  (cZ),  is  sometimes  used. 

(a)  Above  all,  I should  speak  of  JVas/iinfffon,  the  youthful 
Virginian  colonel. 

(a)  Next  to  the  capital  stood  Bristol,  then  the  first  English  sea- 
port, and  Norwich,  then  the  first  English  manufacturing  town. 

(l>)  On  the  seventeenth  of  November,  1558,  after  a brief  but 
most  disastrous  reign,  Queen  Mary  died. 

(5)  Ward  Room,  Franklin  Schoolhouse,  Washington  Street,  Boston. 

(c)  This  point  represents  a second  thought  — an  emendation. 

(c)  Do  I want  an  arm,  when  I have  three  right  arms  — this 
(putting  forward  his  left  one),  and  Ball,  and  Troubridge  ? 

(d)  The  two  principles  of  which  we  have  hitherto  spoken,  — 
Sacrifice  and  Truth. 

(d)  He  considered  fine  writing  to  be  an  addition  from  without 
to  the  matter  treated  of,  — a sort  of  ornament  superinduced. 

In  a sentence  constructed  like  the  first  one  under  (c), 
the  dash  is  preferable  to  the  comma ; for  the  dash  indi- 
cates unmistakably  that  the  two  expressions  between 
which  it  stands  are  in  apposition,  whereas  the  comma 
might  leave  room  for  a momentary  doubt  whether  “ an 
emendation  ” was  the  second  term  in  a series,  of  which 
“ a second  thought  ” was  the  first  term.  A similar  re- 
mark can  be  made  about  the  second  sentence  under  (c). 

Where,  as  in  the  sentences  under  ((^),  the  words  in 
apposition  are  separated  from  each  other  by  several 
other  words,  the  dash  indicates  the  construction  more 
clearly  than  the  comma  would  do. 


PUNCTUATION. 


261 


III. 

VOCATIVE  WORDS. 

Vocative  words  or  expressions  are  separated  from 
the  context  by  one  comma,  when  they  occur  at  the 
beginning  (a)  or  at  the  end  (6)  of  a sentence ; by  two 
commas,  when  they  occur  in  the  body  of  a sentence  (e). 

(a)  Mark  Antony,  here,  take  you  Caesar's  body. 

(Jj)  What  would  you,  Desdemona  ? 

(c)  Mr.  Adams  and  hlr.  Jefferson,  fellow-citizens,  were  succes- 
sively Presidents  of  the  United  States. 

(c)  I remain.  Sir,  your  obedient  servant. 

(c)  No,  sir,^  I thank  you. 


IV. 

ADVERBS  AND  ADVERBIAL  EXPRESSIONS. 

Adverbial  (a),  participial  (6),  adjectival  (c),  or  ab- 
solute (c?)  expressions  are  separated  from  the  context 
by  a comma  or  commas.  So  are  many  adverbs  and 
conjunctions  when  they  modify  a clause  or  a sen- 
tence, or  connect  it  with  another  sentence  (e). 

(0)  By  the  law  of  nations,  citizens  of  other  countries  are  allowed 
to  sue  and  to  be  sued. 

(rt)  The  book,  greatly  to  my  disappointment,  was  not  to  be  found. 

(1)  AVithout  attempting  a formal  definition  of  the  word,  I am 
inclined  to  consider  rhetoric,  when  reduced  to  a system  in  books, 
as  a body  of  rules  derived  from  experience  and  observation,  ex- 
tending to  all  communication  by  language  and  designed  to  make  it 
efficient. 

(b)  Returning  to  the  question,  let  me  add  a single  word. 

(c)  Violent  as  was  the  storm,  it  soon  blew  over. 


1 See  “Capital  Letters,”  III.  p.  279. 


202 


APPENDIX. 


(d)  To  make  a long  story  short,  the  company  broke  up,  and  re- 
turned to  the  more  important  concerns  of  the  election. 

((/)  To  state  my  views  fdhj,  I will  begin  at  the  beginning. 

(e)  The  pursuers,  too,  were  close  behind. 

(e)  Finally,  let  us  not  forget  the  religious  character  of  our  origin. 

(e)  Here,  indeed,  is  the  answer  to  many  criticisms. 

(e)  Therefore,  however  great  the  changes  to  be  accomplished, 
and  however  dense  the  array  against  us,  we  will  neither  despair  ^ 
on  the  one  liand,  nor  on  the  other  ^ threaten  violence. 

“ Many  Avords  ranked  as  adverbs  are  sometimes  em- 
ployed conjunctively,  and  require  a different  treatment 
in  their  punctuation.  When  used  as  conjunctions, 
however,  now,  then,  too,  indeed,  are  divided  by  commas 
from  the  context ; but  when  as  adverbs,  qualifying  the 
Avords  Avith  Avhich  they  are  associated,  the  separation 
should  not  be  made.  This  distinction  Avill  be  seen  from 
the  following  examples : — 

“1.  Hoavever. — We  must,  however,  pay  some  deference  to 
the  opinions  of  the  wise,  however  much  they  are  contraiy  to  our 
own. 

“ 2.  Now.  — I haA'e  now  shown  the  consistency  of  my  principles; 
and,  now,  what  is  the  fair  and  obvious  conclusion? 

“ 3.  Then.  — On  these  facts,  then,  I then  rested  my  argument, 
and  afterwards  made  a few  general  observations  on  the  subject. 

“ 4.  Too.  — I found,  too,  a theatre  at  Alexandria,  and  another  at 
Cairo ; but  he  who  would  enjoy  the  representations  must  not  be  too 
particular. 

“ 5.  Indeed.  — The  young  man  was  indeed  culpable  in  that  act, 
though,  indeed,  he  conducted  himself  very  well  in  other  respects. 

“ When  placed  at  the  end  of  a sentence  or  a clause, 
the  conjunction  too  must  not  be  separated  from  the  con- 
text by  a comma ; as,  ‘I  would  that  they  had  changed 
voices  too'  ” 2 

1 Commas  omitted  here  for  reasons  of  taste.  See  p.  250. 

2 AVilson : Punctuation,  p.  73. 


PUNCTUATION. 


263 


V. 

RELATIVE  CLAUSES. 

Relative  clauses  which  are  merely  explanatory  of  the 
antecedent,  or  which  present  an  additional  thought,  are 
separated  from  the  context  by  a comma  or  commas  (a)  ; 
but  relative  clauses  which  are  restrictive,  that  is,  which 
limit  or  determine  the  meaning  of  the  antecedent,  are 
not  so  separated  {l>')d 

(a)  Ilis  slories,  which  made  everybody  laugh,  were  often  made 
to  order. 

(rt)  At  five  in  the  morning  of  tlie  seventh,  Greg,  who  had  wan- 
dered from  his  friends,  was  seized  by  two  of  the  Sussex  scouts. 

(n)  Ilis  voice,  iL'hich  was  so  pleasing  in  private,  ivas  too  weak  for 
a public  occasion. 

(a)  In  times  like  these,  when  the  passions  are  stimulated,  truth  is 
forgotten. 

(a)  The  leaders  of  the  parig,  hg  whom  this  plan  had  been  devised, 
had  been  struggling  for  seven  years  to  organize  such  an  assembly. 

(a)  We  not  only  find  Erin  for  Ireland,  ivhere  brevitj''  is  in  favor 
of  the  substitution,  but  also  Caledonia  for  Scotland. 

(b)  He  did  that  which  he  feared  to  do. 

(/;)  He  who  is  his  own  lawyer  is  said  to  have  a fool  for  a client. 

(It)  The  uproar,  the  blood,  the  gashes,  the  ghastly  figures  which 
sank  down  and  never  rose  again,  spread  horror  and  dismay  through 
the  town. 

(b)  Those  inhabitants  who  had  favored  the  insurrection  expected 
sack  and  massacre. 

(b)  The  extent  to  which  the  Federalists  yielded  their  assent  would 
at  this  day  be  incredible. 

(b)  I told  him  where  that  opposition  must  end. 

(b),  (a)  Those  Presbyterian  members  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons  icho  had  been  expelled  by  the  army,  returned  to  their  seats, 
and  were  hailed  with  acclamations  by  great  multitudes,  which  filled 
Westminster  Hall  and  Palace  Yard. 


See  p.  105. 


264 


APPENDIX. 


VI. 

PAEENTHETIC  EXPRESSIONS. 

P arentlietic  or  intermediate  expressions  are  separated 
from  the  context  by  commas  (a),  by  dashes  either 
alone  (6)  or  combined  with  other  stops  (c),  or  by 
marks  of  parenthesis  [(  )]  (d).  The  last  are  less  com- 
mon now  than  they  were  formerly.  The  dash  should 
not  be  used  too  frequently,  but  is  to  be  preferred  to 
the  comma  when  the  latter  would  cause  ambiguity  or 
obscurity,  as  where  the  sentence  already  contains  a 
number  of  commas  (e). 

Brackets  [ ] are  used  when  words  not  the  author’s 
(/),  or  when  signs  (^),  are  inserted  to  explain  the 
meaning  or  to  supply  an  omission.  Sometimes  also 
brackets  are  needed  for  clearness  (K). 

(a)  The  difference,  therefore,  between  a regiment  of  the  foot 
guards  and  a regiment  of  clowns  just  enrolled,  though  doubtless 
considerable,  teas  by  no  means  what  it  now  is. 

(«)  The  English  of  the  North,  or'^  Northumbrian,  has  bequeathed 
to  us  few  monuments.  ' 

(b) ,  (a)  It  ■will — I am  sure  it  will  — moi-e  and  7nore,  as  time 
goes  on,  be  found  good  for  this. 

(r)  AVhen  he  was  in  a rage,  — and  he  very  often  was  in  a rage, 
— he  swore  like  a porter. 

(c)  They  who  thought  her  to  be  a great  luoman,  — and  many 
people  did  think  her  to  be  great,  — loere  wont  to  declare  that  she 
never  forgot  those  who  did  come,  or  those  who  did  not. 

(f/)  lie  was  received  with  great  respect  by  the  minister  of  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Tuscang  (who  afterwards  mounted  the  Imperial 
throne'),  and  by  the  ambassador  of  the  Empress  Queen. 

(d)  Circumstances  (which  with  some  gentlemen  pass  for  nothing) 

1 In  this  sentence,  tlie  word  “or”  is  not  a disjunctive,  but  has  the  force  of 
“ otherwise  called.” 


PUNCTUATION. 


265 


gioe  in  reality  to  every  political  principle  its  distinguishing  color 
and  discriminating  effect. 

(d)  If  it  is  true,  as  this  new  teacher  says,  that  the  artist  is  the 
product  of  his  time,  it  is  evident  (they  will  infer)  that  no  modern 
artist  can  become  like  the  product  of  another  time. 

(e) ,  (a)  In  the  insurrection  of  provinces,  either  distant  or  sepa- 
rated by  natural  boundaries, — more  especially  if  the  inhabitants, 
differing  in  religion  and  language,  are  rather  subjects  of  the  same 
government  than  poi'tions  of  the  same  people,  — hostilities  which  are 
waged  only  to  sever  a legal  tie  may  assume  the  regularity,  and  in 
some  measure  the  mildness,  of  foreign  war. 

(f)  The  chairman  of  our  Committee  of  Foreign  Relations  [il/r. 
Eppesi , introduced  at  this  time  these  amendments  to  the  House. 

(y)  [See  brackets  enclosing  the  parentlietic  signs  in  VI.,  line  4.] 

(/()  [As  hei’e  and  in  (y),  to  show  that  these  are  not  examples, 
but  references.] 

The  principle  which  requires  parenthetical  expres- 
sions to  be  set  off  by  marks  of  punctuation,  — a principle 
underlying  II.,  III.,  IV.,  and  V.  (a),  as  well  as  VI., — 
founded  though  it  is  in  the  obvious  utility  of  separat- 
ing from  the  rest  of  the  sentence  words  which  interrupt 
the  continuity  of  thought,  and  can  be  removed  without 
impairing  the  gi’ammatical  structure,  may  occasionally 
be  violated  to  advantage  ; as,  for  example,  by  the  omis- 
sion of  commas  before  and  after  the  Avords  “ though  it 
is,”  in  the  fourth  line  of  this  paragraph.  So,  too,  in  the 
first  line  of  XIV.,  the  parenthetical  expression,  “ either 
alone  or  combined  with  other  stops,”  is  set  off  by 
commas  ; but,  in  the  second  and  third  lines  of  VI.,  the 
same  expression  is  written  without  the  first  comma, 
because  by  the  omission  the  expression  is  made  to 
qualify  “ dashes  ” only.  In  the  clause,  “ after  a brief 
but  most  disastrous  reign  ” (II.  b'),  the  Avords  “ but 
most  disastrous  ” are  parenthetical ; but  marks  of  paren- 
thesis can  Avell  be  spared,  the  clause  is  so  brief. 


266 


APPENDIX. 


VIL 

ELLIPTICAL  SENTENCES. 

A comma  is  often  required  to  indicate  an  ellipsis, 
(a)  ; but  the  comma,  if  not  needed  to  make  the  sense 
clear,  may  be  dispensed  with  (5).  Where  the  ellipsis 
is  of  the  expressions  that  is,  namely,  and  the  like,  a 
point  is  always  required : in  some  cases  a comma  is  to 
be  preferred  (c),  in  others  a comma  and  dash  (c?),  in 
others  a colon  (e). 

(a)  Admission,  twenty-five  CQwis.  Tickets,  fifty  CQnis. 

(a)  He  was  boi'n  at  the  old  homestead.  May  7, 1833.  He  always 
lived  in  Newport,  Rhode  Island,  United  States  of  America. 

(a)  Its  political  maxims  are  invaluable ; its  exhortations  to  love 
of  country  and»to  brotherly  affection  among  citizens,  touchiny. 

(a)  With  a united  government,  well  administered,  he  saw  that 
we  had  nothing  to  fear;  and  without  it,  nothing  to  hope. 

(i)  On  the  best  lines  of  communication  the  ruts  were  deep,  the 
descents  precipitous,  and  the  way  often  such  as  it  was  hardly  possi- 
ble to  distinguish,  in  the  dark,  from  the  unenclosed  heath  and  fen 
which  lay  on  both  sides. 

(b)  Hancock  served  the  cause  with  his  liberal  opulence,  Adams 
tdth  his  incorruptible  poverty. 

(e)  This  scene  admits  of  but  one  addition,  that  we  are  mis- 
governed. 

(d)  This  deplorable  scene  admits  of  but  one  addition,  — that  we 
ai’e  governed  by  councils  from  which  a reasonable  man  can  expect 
no  remedy  but  poison,  no  relief  but  death. 

(e)  One  thing  is  sure : the  bill  will  not  pass. 

Ill  both  the  examples  under  (5),  the  insertion  of  com- 
mas between  the  italicized  words  would,  on  account 
of  the  proximity  of  other  commas,  create  obscurity 
and  offend  the  eye ; in  the  third  and  fourth  examples 
under  (a),  this  objection  does  not  hold. 


PUNCTUATION. 


267 


VIII. 

DEPENDENT  CLAUSES. 

A comma  is  used  between  two  clauses,  one  of  which 
depends  on  the  other  (a).  If,  however,  the  clauses 
are  intimately  connected  in  both  sense  and  construc- 
tion, the  comma  is  often  omitted  (i). 

(rt)  Though  herself  a inoilel  of  personal  huauty,  she  was  not  the 
goddess  of  beauty. 

(a)  Had  a conflict  once  begun,  the  rage  of  their  persecutors 
would  hav’e  redoubled. 

(a)  If  our  will  be  ready,  our  powers  are  not  deficient. 

(«)  As  soon,  as  his  declaration  was  known,  the  whole  nation  was 
wild  with  delight. 

(a)  While  France  was  wasted  by  war,  the  English  pleaded, 
traded,  and  studied  in  security. 

Q))  The  Board  may  hardly  be  reminded  that  the  power  of  expend- 
ing any  portion  of  the  principal  of  our  fund  exphed  at  the  end  of 
two  years. 

(»)  And  loved  her  as  he  loved  the  light  of  heaven. 

(i)  AVe  w'ished  to  associate  with  the  ocean  until  it  lost  the  pond- 
like look  which  it  w'ears  to  a countryman. 

(li)  You  may  go  if  you  will. 

(h)  I doubt  whether  he  saw  the  true  limits  of  taste. 

(//)  Then  Shakspere  is  a genius  because  he  can  be  translated 
into  German,  and  not  a ge,nius  because  he  cannot  be  translated  into 
French. 

These  examples  sliotv  that,  if  the  dependent  clause 
comes  first,  a comma  is  usually  required ; but  that 
sometimes  one  is  not  required  if  the  dependent  clause 
comes  immediately  after  the  clause  on  Avhich  it  de- 
pends. In  the  former  case,  the  word  which  makes 
the  conneetion  between  the  two  clauses  is  at  a distance 
from  the  words  it  connects ; in  tlie  latter  case,  it  stands 
between  or  at  least  near  tlie  words  it  connects. 

12* 


268 


APPENDIX. 


IX. 

INDEPENDENT  CLAUSES. 

A point  is  required  between  two  independent  clauses 
connected  by  a conjunction,  — such  as  /or,  and,  but,  or 
yet,  — in  order  to  render  it  certain  that  the  conjunction 
does  not  serve  to  connect  the  ivords  between  which  it 
stands.  If  the  sentence  is  a short  one,  and  the  clauses 
are  closely  connected,  a comma  is  sufficient  (a)  ; in  other 
cases,  a semicolon  [;]  (V)  or  a colon  [:]  (o)  is  required.' 

(a)  I had  now  a mind  to  try  how  many  cobwebs  a single  spider 
could  furnish ; wherefore  I destroyed  this,  and  the  insect  set  about 
another. 

(a)  There  was  a lock  on  the  door,  hut  the  key  was  gone. 

(a)  Learn  to  live  well,  or  fairly  make  your  will. 

(a)  The  lock  went  hard,  yet  the  key  did  open  it. 

(a)  He  smote  the  rock  of  the  national  resources,  and  abundant 
streams  of  revenue  gushed  forth.  He  touched  the  dead  corpse  of 
the  Public  Credit,  and  it  sprung  upon  its  feet. 

(h)  This  was  the  greatest  victory  in  that  war,  so  fertile  in  great 
exploits ; and  it  at  once  gave  renown  to  the  Admiral. 

(V)  So  end  the  ancient  voices  of  religion  and  learning ; hut  they 
are  silenced,  only  to  revive  more  gloriously  elsewhere. 

(a),  (1))  The  very  idea  of  purity  and  disinterestedness  in 
politics  falls  into  disrepute,  and  is  considered  as  a vision  of  hot  and 
inexperienced  men;  and  thus  disorders  become  incurable,  not  by 
the  virulence  of  their  own  quality,  but  by  the  unapt  and  violent 
nature  of  their  remedies. 

(c),  (/q  The  Mohawks  were  at  first  afraid  to  come:  hut  in  April 
they  sent  the  Flemish  Bastard  with  overtures  of  peace ; and  in  J uly 
a large  deputation  of  their  chiefs  appeared  at  Quebec. 

(a),  (c)  His  friends  have  given  us  materials  for  criticism,  and 
for  these  we  ought  to  be  grateful ; his  enemies  have  given  us  nega- 
tive criticism,  and  for  this,  up  to  a certain  point,  we  may  be  grateful : 
hut  the  criticism  we  really  want  neither  of  them  has  yet  given  us.'' 

‘ For  punctuation  of  independent  clauses  not  connected  by  a conjunc- 
tion— successive  short  sentenees— see  XL,  p.  370. 

» See  also  XII.  {a),  p.  271. 


PUNCTUATION. 


269 


x: 

DEPENDENT  EXPRESSIONS  IN  A SERIES. 

Semicolons  are  used  between  expressions  in  a series 
which  have  a common  dependence  upon  words  at  the 
beginning  (a)  or  at  tlie  end  (i)  of  a sentence. 

(a)  You  could  give  us  no  commission  to  wrong  or  oppress,  or 
even  to  suffer  any  kind  of  oppression  or  wrong,  on  any  grounds 
whatsoever;  not  on  political,  as  in  the  affairs  of  America;  noton 
commercial,  as  in  those  of  Ireland ; not  in  civil,  as  in  the  laws  for 
debt;  not  in  religious,  as  in  the  statutes  against  Protestant  or 
Catholic  dissenters. 

(a)  They  forget  that,  in  England,  not  one  shilling  of  paper- 
money  of  any  description  is  received  but  of  choice;  that  the  whole 
has  had  its  origin  in  cash  actually  deposited ; and  that  it  is  con- 
vertible, at  pleasure,  in  an  instant,  and  without  the  smallest  loss, 
into  cash  again. 

(rt)  In  this  choice  of  inheritance  we  have  given  to  our  frame  of 
polity  the  image  of  a relation  in  blood:  binding  up  the  Constitution 
of  our  country  with  our  dearest  domestic  ties ; adopting  our  funda- 
mental laws  into  the  bosom  of  our  iamWj  affections ; keeping  insepa- 
rable, and  cherishing  with  the  warmth  of  all  their  combined  and 
mutually  reflected  charities,  our  State,  our  hearths,  our  sepulchres, 
aiid  our  altars. 

{h)  The  ground  strowed  with  the  dead  and  the  dying;  the 
impetuous  charge;  the  steady  and  successful  repulse;  the  loud 
call  to  repeated  assault;  the  summoning  of  all  that  is  manly  to 
repeated  resistance ; a thousand  bosoms  freely  and  fearlessly 
bared  in  an  instant  to  whatever  of  terror  there  may  be  in  war 
and  death;  — all  these  you  have  witnessed,  but  you  witness  them 
no  more. 

(i)  How  we  have  fared  since  then — what  woful  variety  of 
schemes  have  been  adopted;  ichat  enforcing,  and  what  repealing; 
what  doing  and  undoing ; what  shiftings,  and  changings,  and  jum- 
blings  of  all  kinds  of  men  at  home,  which  left  no  possibility  of 
order,  consistency,  or  vigor  — it  is  a tedious  task  to  recount. 


270 


APPENDIX. 


XI. 

SUCCESSIVE  SHORT  SENTENCES. 

Either  semicolons  or  colons  may  be  used  to  connect 
in  form  successive  short  sentences  which  are,  though 
but  slightly,  connected  in  sense.  Semicolons  are  usually 
preferred  where  the  connection  of  thought  is  close  (a)  ; 
colons,  where  it  is  not  very  close  (5). 

(a)  The  united  fleet  rode  unmolested  by  the  British:  Sir  Charles 
Hardy  either  did  not  or  would  not  see  them. 

(a)  Such  was  our  situation:  and  such  a satisfaction  was  neces- 
sary to  prevent  recourse  to  a>-ms ; it  was  necessary  toward  laying 
them  down ; it  will  be  necessary  to  prevent  the  taking  them  up 
again  and  again. 

(a)  Mark  the  destiny  of  crime.  It  is  ever  obliged  to  resort  to 
such  subterfuges ; it  trembles  in  the  broad  light;  it  betrays  itseh  in 
seeking  concealment. 

(a)  The  women  are  generally  prehy ; few  of  them  are  brunettes; 
many  of  them  are  discreet,  and  a good  number  are  lazy. 

(a)  He  takes  things  as  they  are ; he  submits  to  them  all,  as  far  as 
they  go ; he  recognizes  the  lines  of  demarcation  which  run  between 
subject  and  subject. 

(&)  Very  few  faults  of  architecture  are  mistakes  of  honest  choice  : 
they  are  almost  all  hypocrisies. 

(b)  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  classical  writers : Plato,  Aris- 
totle, Lucretius,  and  Seneca,  as  far  as  I recollect,  are  silent  on  the 
subject. 

(1>)  Compute  your  gains : see  what  is  got  by  those  extravagant 
and  presumptuous  speculations  which  have  taught  your  leaders  to 
despise  all  their  predecessors. 

(b),  (a)  The  professors  of  science  who  threw  out  the  general 
principle  have  gained  a rich  harvest  from  the  seed  they  sowed:  they 
gave  the  principle;  they  got  back  from  the  practical  telegrapher 
accurate  standards  of  measurement.^ 


1 See  al^o  XII.  (a),  p.  271. 


PUNCTUATION. 


271 


XIL 

COMPOUND  SENTENCES. 

Colons  are  used  between  two  members  of  a sentence, 
one  or  both  of  which  are  composed  of  two  or  more 
clauses  separated  by  semicolons  (a)  ; semicolons,  or 
very  rarely  colons,  between  clauses,  one  or  both  of 
which  are  subdivided  by  a number  of  commas  {h). 
The  relations  which  the  several  parts  of  the  sentence 
bear  to  one  another  are  thus  clearly  indicated. 

(a)  Early  reformations  are  amicable  arrangements  with  a friend 
in  power ; late  reformations  are  terms  imposed  upon  a conquered 
enemy:  early  reformations  are  made  in  cool  blood;  late  reforma- 
tions are  made  under  a state  of  inflammation. 

(a)  We  are  seldom  tiresome  to  ourselves ; and  the  act  of  com- 
position fills  and.  delights  the  mind  with  change  of  language  and 
succession  of  images:  every  couplet  when  produced  is  new;  and 
novelty  is  the  great  source  of  pleasure. 

(a)  There  seems  to  have  been  an  Indian  path;  for  this  was  the 
ordinary  route  of  the  Mohawk  and  Oneida  icar-gyarlies : hut  the  path 
was  narrow,  broken,  full  of  gullies  and  pitfalls,  crossed  by  streams, 
and  in  one  place  interrupted  by  a lake  which  they  passed  on  rafts. ^ 
(li)  He  w'as  courteous,  not  cringing,  to  superiors;  affable,  not 
familiar,  to  equals;  and  kind,  but  not  condescending  or  supercilious, 
to  inferiors. 

(li)  Death  is  there  associated,  not,  as  in  Westminster  Abbey 
and  Saint  Paul’s,  with  genius  and  virtue,  Avith  public  ven- 
eration and  with  imperishable  renown;  not,  as  in  our  humblest 
churches  and  churchyards,  with  every  thing  that  is  most  en- 
dearing in  social  and  domestic  charities;  but  Avith  whatever  is 
darkest  in  human  nature  and  in  human  destiny. 

(h)  Therefore  they  look  out  for  the  day  when  they  shall  have 
put  dowm  religion,  not  by  shutting  its  schools,  but  by  emptying 
them;  not  by  disputing  its  tenets,  but  by  the  superior  AA’eight  and 
persuasiveness  of  their  own. 

1 See  also  TX.  (r),  and  XI.  (6),  (a),  pp.  2G8,  270. 


272 


APPENDIX. 


XIII. 

FORMAL  STATEMENTS;  QUOTATIONS. 

The  colon  is  used  before  particulars  formally  stated 
(d).  The  colon  (5),  the  comma  (c),  or  the  dash  com- 
bined with  the  colon  (d)  or  with  the  comma  (e),  is 
used  before  quotations  indicated  by  marks  of  quotation 
[“  The  dash  is  generally  used  before  a quoted 

passage  which  forms  a new  paragraph ; it  is  joined 
with  the  comma  when  the  quotation  is  short,  with  the 
colon  when  it  is  long.  If  the  quotation  depends  di- 
rectly on  a preceding  word,  no  stop  is  required  (/). 

(a)  So,  then,  these  are  the  two  virtues  of  building:  Jirst,  the 
.signs  of  man’s  own  good  work;  secondly,  the  expression  of  man’s 
delight  in  work  better  than  his  own. 

(a)  Again:  this  argument  is  unsound  because  it  is  unfounded 
in  fact.  The  facts  are  such  as  sustain  the  opposite  conclusion,  as 
I will  prove  in  a very  few  words. 

(h)  Toward  the  end  of  your  letter,  you  are  pleased  to  observe : 
“ The  rejection  of  a treaty,  duly  negotiated,  is  a serious  question, 
to  be  avoided  whenever  it  can  be  without  too  great  a sacrifice. 
Though  the  national  faith  is  not  actually  committed,  still  it  is  more 
or  less  engaged.” 

(c)  When  the  repast  was  about  to  commence,  the  major-domo, 
or  steward,  suddenly  raising  his  wand,  said  aloud,  Forbear ! — 
Place  for  the  Lady  Rowena.” 

((/)  Alice  folded  her  hands,  and  began : — 

“ You  are  old.  Father  William,”  the  young  man  said, 

“ And  your  hair  is  uncommonly  white  ...” 

(e)  Shakspere  wrote  the  line,  — 

“ The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them.” 

(/)  The  common  people  raised  the  cry  of  “ Doton  with  the 
bishops.” 

(/)  It  declares  that  “ war  exists  by  the  act  of  Mexico.” 

1 See  XVII.  p.  275. 


PUNCTUATION. 


273 


XIV. 

THE  DASH. 

The  dash,  either  alone  or  combined  with  other  stops, 
is  used  where  the  construction  or  the  sense  is  suddenly 
changed  or  suspended  (a) ; wliere  a sentence  termi- 
nates rtbrnptly  (5)  ; for  rhetorical  emphasis  (c) ; in 
rapid  discourse  (d)  ; Avhere  words,  letters,  or  figures  are 
omitted  (e)  ; and  between  a title  and  the  subject- 
matter  (f),  or  the  subject-matter  and  the  authority 
for  it  (ff),  when  both  are  in  the  same  paragraph. 

(a)  The  man  — il  is  his  system ; we  do  not  try  a solitary  word 
or  act,  but  his  habit. 

(a)  Consider  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  — where  is  there  any 
composition  more  carefully,  more  artificially,  written  V 

(a)  Rome,  — what  was  Home? 

(«)  To  let  loose  hussars  and  to  bring  up  artillery,  to  govern 
with  lighted  matches,  and  to  cut  and  push  and  prime,  — / call 
this,  not  vigor,  but  the  sloth  of  cruelty  and  ignorance. 

(h')  “ Long,  long  will  I remember  your  features,  and  bless  God 
that  I leave  my  noble  deliverer  united  with  ” — 

She  stopped  short. 

(c)  I cannot  forget  that  we  are  men  by  a more  sacred  bond  than 
we  are  citizens, — that  we  are  children  of  a common  Father  more 
than  we  are  Americans. 

(c)  What  shall  become  of  the  poor,  — the  increasing  Standing 
Army  of  tlie  poor? 

(f/)  Hollo!  ho!  the  whole  "world’s  a.'-?cep .' — briny  oxit  the  horses. 
— f/rease  the  wheels,  — lie  on  the  mail. 

(<?)  In  the  first  place,  I presume  you  will  have  no  difficulty  in 
breaking  your  word  with  d/rs.  C y. 

(c)  1874-76. 

(/)>  (.(/)  Di-u-na.  — The  usual  pronunciation  is  Di-dn-a. 
Smart. 

(y)  The  Eastern  and  the  Western  imagination  coincide.  — ■ 
Stanley. 


274 


APPENDIX. 


XV. 

PERIOD,  NOTE  OP  INTERROGATION,  AND  NOTE  OP 
EXCLAMATION. 

At  the  end  of  every  complete  sentence,  a period  [.] 
is  put  if  the  sentence  affirms  or  denies ; a note  inter- 
rogation [.^j,  if  the  sentence  asks  a direct  question;  a 
note  of  exclamation  [!],  if  the  sentence  is  exclamatory. 
Interrogation  or  exclamation  points  are  also  used  in  the 
body  of  a sentence  when  two  or  more  inteiTogations  (a) 
or  exclamations  (S)  are  closely  connected. 

(a)  For  what  is  a body  but  an  aggregate  of  individuals  ? and 
wbat  new  right  can  be  conveyed  by  a mere  change  of  name? 

(b)  How  he  could  trot ! how  he  could  run! 


XVI. 

ABBREVIATIONS  AND  HEADINGS. 

Periods  are  used  after  abbreviations  (a),  and  after 
headings  and  sub-headings  (6).  Commas  are  used  be- 
fore every  three  figures,  counted  from  the  right,  when 
there  are  more  than  three  (c),  except  in  dates  (c^). 

(n)  If  gold  were  depreciated  one-half,  3L  would  be  worth  no 
more  than  11.  10.5.  i.s  now. 

(a)  To  retain  such  a lump  in  such  an  orbit  requires  a pull  of 
1 lb.  6 oz.  51  (jrs. 

Qi)  IVoRDs  Definkd  by  Usage. 

(f),  {d)  The  amount  of  stock  issued  by  the  several  States,  for 
each  period  of  five  years  since  1820,  is  as  follows,  viz. : — 

From  1820-1825  somewhat  over  $12,000,000. 

„ 1825-1830  „ „ 13,000,000. 

„ 1830-1835  „ „ 40,000,000. 

„ 1835-1840  „ „ 109,000,000. 


PUNCTUATION. 


275 


XVII. 

MARKS  OF  QUOTATION. 

Expressions  in  the  language  of  another  require  marks 
of  quotation  [“  ”]  (a).  Single  quotation  points  [‘  ’] 
mark  a quotation  within  a quotation  (6).  If,  however, 
a quotation  is  made  from  still  a third  source,  the  double 
marks  are  again  put  in  use  (c). 

Titles  of  books  or  of  periodicals  (d'),  and  names  of 
vessels  (e)  usually  require  marks  of  quotation,  unless 
they  are  italicized.  Sometimes,  however,  where  they 
occur  frequently,  or  in  foot-notes,  titles  are  written 
in  Roman  and  capitalized  (/). 

(a)  [See  XIII.  p.  272.] 

(i)  Coleridge  sneered  at  “the  cant  phrase  ‘made  a gi-eat 
sensation.’  ” 

(c)  “ This  friend  of  humanity  says,  ‘ When  I consider  their 
lives,  I seem  to  see  the  “ golden  age  ” beginning  again.’  ” 

(d)  “ Waverley  ” was  reviewed  in  “ The  Edinburgh.” 

(e)  “ The  Constitution  ” is  a famous  ship  of  war. 

(/)  [See  foot-notes  in  this  book.] 

XVITI. 

THE  HYPHEN. 

The  hyphen  [-]  is  used  to  join  the  constituent  parts 
of  many  compound  («)  and  derivative  (li)  words  ; and 
to  divide  w’ords,  as  at  the  end  of  a line  (c). 

(a)  The  incense-breathing  morn. 

(a)  He  wears  a broad-brimmed,  loiu-croivned  hat. 

{li)  The  Vice-President  of  the  United  States. 

(c)  [See  “ inter-rogation  ” under  XY.,  second  line;  “ be-fore  ” 
under  XVI.,  second  line.] 


276 


APPENDIX. 


XIX. 

THE  APOSTROPHE. 

The  apostrophe  [’]  is  used  to  denote  the  elision  of 
a letter  or  letters  (a),  or  of  a figure  or  figures  (5)  ; to 
distinguish  the  possessive  case  (c)  ; and  to  form  certain 
plurals  ((i).  The  apostrophe  should  not  be  used  with 
the  pronouns  its,  ours,  and  the  like  (e). 

(a)  ’Tis  James  of  Douglas,  by  Saint  Seiie! 

(a)  The  O’DonogJiue  was  a broth  of  a boy. 

(a)  What  o'clock  is  it  ? I can't  tell  time. 

(a)  IIop-o’-???y-thumb  is  an  active  little  hero. 

(i)  Since  that  time  it  has  been  re-observed  on  every  subsequent 
revolution,  — in  '22,  '25. 

(I/)  The  patriots  of  '75. 

(c)  Spenser's  adulation  of  her  beauty  may  be  extenuated. 

(c)  The  Seven  Years'  war  was  carried  on  in  America. 

(c)  The  Joneses'  dogs  are  on  good  terms  with  Mrs.  Barnard's  cat. 
(c)  Ladies'  and  gentlemen's  boots  made  to  order. 

(f)  The  book  can  be  found  at  Scott  & Co.,  puUishers' . 

(c)  The  fox's  tail  was  accordingly  cut  off. 

(c)  For  conscience'  sake. 

(d)  Mark  all  the  a's  in  the  exercise. 

{(1)  Surely  long  s's  (/)  have,  like  the  Turks,  had  their  day. 

(e)  Its  [not  it’s]  length  was  twenty  feet. 

(e)  Tom  Burke  of  Oars. 

It  is  sometimes  a question  whether  to  use  the  pos- 
sessive with  an  apostrophe,  or  to  use  the  noun  as  an 
adjective.  One  may  write, — 

John  Brown,  Agent  for  Smith’s  Organs  and  Robinson’s  Pianos: 

or, 

John  Brown,  Agent  for  The  Smith  Organ  and  The  Robinson 
Piano. 

The  latter  form  is  preferable. 


PUNCTUATION. 


277 


XX. 

PUNCTUATION  IN  THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  EYE. 

(1)  A comma  sometimes  serves  to  distinguish  the 
component  parts  of  a sentence  from  one  another,  thus 
enabling  the  reader  more  readily  to  catch  the  mean- 
ing of  the  whole.  Where,  for  example,  a number  of 
words  which  together  form  the  object  or  one  of  the 
objects  of  a verb,  precede  instead  of  following  the  verb, 
they  should  be  set  off  by  a comma  when  perspicuity 
requires  it  (a) ; but  not  otherwise  (J). 

(2)  A subject-nominative  may  need  to  be  distin- 
guished from  its  verb,  either  because  of  some  pecu- 
liarity in  the  juxtaposition  of  words  at  the  point  where 
the  comma  is  inserted  (c),  or  because  of  the  length  and 
complexity  of  the  subject-nominative  (d). 

(3)  When  numerals  are  written  in  Roman  letters 
instead  of  Arabic  figures,  as  in  references  to  authori- 
ties for  a statement,  periods  are  used  instead  of  com- 
mas, both  as  being  in  better  taste  and  as  being  more 
agreeable  to  tlie  eye.  For  the  same  reason,  small 
letters  are  preferred  to  capitals  when  the  references 
are  numerous  (e). 

(a)  Even  the  kind  of  public  interests  which  Englishmen  cai'e 
/}))•,  he  held  in  very  little  esteem. 

(a)  To  the  tender  and  melancholy  recollections  of  his  early  days 
with  this  loved  companion  of  his  childhood,  we  may  attribute  some 
of  the  most  heartfelt  passages  in  his  “ Deserted  Village.” 

(It)  Even  his  country  he  did  not  care  for. 

Qi)  To  devout  women  she  assigns  spiritual  functions,  dignities, 
and  magi.stracies. 

(e)  How  inudi  a dunce  that  has  been  sent  to  roam, 

Excels  a dunce  that  has  been  kept  at  home! 


278 


APPENDIX. 


(c)  One  truth  is  clear,  "Wliatever  is,  is  right. 

(d)  The  same  modification  of  our  Germanism  by  another  force 
■which  seems  Celtic,  is  visible  in  our  religion. 

(f/)  To  allo-w  the  slave-ships  of  a confederation  formed  for  the 
extension  of  slaveiy  to  come  and  go  free  and  unexamined  between 
America  and  the  African  coast,  luould  be  to  renounce  even  the  pre- 
tence of  attempting  to  protect  Africa  against  the  man-stealer. 

(d)  Those  Presbyterian  members  of  the  House  of  Commons 
wlro  had  many  years  before  been  expelled  by  the  army,  returned  to 
their  seats. 

(e)  Macaulay:  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  vi.  pp.  GO,  G5. 
[See  also  notes  throughout  this  book.] 

(e ) Deut.  xvi.  19 ; John  vi.  58. 


CAPITAL  LETTERS. 


279 


IL 

CAPITAL  LETTERS. 


I. 

Every  sentence  opening  a paragraph  or  following 
a full  stop,  and  every  line  in  poetry,  should  begin  with 
a capital  letter. 

II. 

Every  direct  quotation^  formally  introduced,  should 
begin  with  a capital  letter  (a). 

(a)  [See  XIII.  (i),  (c),  p.  272.] 


m. 

A capital  letter  should  begin  every  word  which  7s,  or 
is  used  as,  a proper  name.  We  should  write  England, 
not  england ; the  American  Indian,  not  tlie  american 
indian ; Shylock,  not  shylock ; the  White  Star  Line, 
not  the  white  star  line  ; the  Bible,  not  the  hihle ; Mil- 
tonic, not  miltonic.  We  should  distinguish  between  the 
popes  and  Pope  Pius  Ninth ; between  the  constitution 
of  society  and  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States ; 
between  the  reformation  of  a man’s  character  and  the 
Reformation  of  Luther ; between  a revolution  in  poli- 
tics and  the  Revolution  of  1688 ; between  republican 


280 


APPENDIX. 


principles  and  the  principles  of  the  Republican  party : 
the  foundation  of  the  distinction  in  each  case  being,  that 
a word,  when  used  as  a proper  name,  should  begin  with 
a capital  letter.  Good  authors  do  not  uniformly  follow 
this  rule  ; but  most  departures  from  it  probably  origi- 
nate in  their  own  or  their  printers’  inadvertence,  rather 
than  in  their  intention  to  ignore  a useful  principle,  or 
needlessly  to  create  exceptions  to  it.  The  only  excep- 
tion to  this  rule  — an  exception,  however,  not  firmly 
established  — is  in  sir,  gentlemen,  in  the  body  of  a com- 
position. The  reason  for  not  using  a capital  in  such 
cases  is  that  it  would  give  undue  importance  to  the 
word. 


IV. 

Capital  letters  exclusively  are  used  in  titles  of  books 
or  chapters ; they  are  used  more  freely  in  prefaces  or 
introductions  than  in  the  body  of  the  work,  and  more 
freely  in  books  designed  for  instruction  than  in  others  ; 
and  they,  or  italics,  may  be  used  in  order  to  emphasize 
words  of  primary  importance.  For  purposes  of  em- 
phasis, they  should,  however,  be  used  with  caution: 
to  insist  too  frequently  upon  emphasis  is  to  defeat  its 
object. 


V. 

Phrases  or  clauses,  when  separately  numbered,  should 
each  begin  with  a capital  letter  (a). 

(a)  Government  possesses  three  different  classes  of  powers:  1st, 
Those  necessary  to  enable  it  to  accomplish  all  the  declared  objects; 
2d,  Those  specially  devolved  on  the  nation  at  large;  3d,  Those 
specially  delegated. 


CAPITAL  LETTERS. 


281 


VL 

“ O ” should  always  be  written  as  a capital  letter  (a)  ; 
“ oh  ” should  not  be  so  written,  except  at  the  beginning 
of  a sentence  (5). 

(a)  Break,  break,  break. 

On  thy  cold  gray  stones,  0 Sea! 

(b)  But  ob,  the  madness  of  my  high  attempt 
Speaks  louder  yet  1 


VII. 

In  a letter,  the  first  word  after  the  address  should 
begin  with  a capital ; this  word  is  often  printed,  in 
order  to  save  space,  on  the  same  line  with  the  address, 
but  should  be  written  on  tbe  line  below.  In  the 
address,  tSir  should  always  begin  with  a capital ; and 
the  weight  of  good  usage  favors  Friend,  Father,  Brother, 
Sister,  both  as  being  titles  of  respect  and  as  emphatic 
words,  rather  than  friend,  father,  brother,  sister,  unless 
Avhen  the  word  occurs  in  the  body  of  the  letter.  The 
affectionate  or  respectful  phrase  at  the  end  of  a letter 
should  begin  with  a capital. 

Xew  York,  25  Jan.,  1875. 

My  dear  Sir: 

Your  esteemed  favor  of  the  22d  inst.  gave  me  the  most  sensible 
pleasure. 

Your  obedient  servant,  A.  B. 

Mr.  C.  D.,  Boston. 


Sept.  29,  1875. 

My  dear  Friend, 

Your  favor  of  August  1st  has  just  come  to  hand.  Whatever  sweet 
things  may  be  said  of  me,  there  are  not  less  said  of  you. 

Yom-s  faithfully. 


X.  Y. 


282 


APPENDIX. 


To  the  Editor  of  The  Nation  : — 

Sir : The  ‘ ‘ great  mercy  ’ ’ in  Ohio  is  doubtless  a cause  for  great 
rejoicing  on  the  part  of  all  honest  men. 

L.  II.  B. 

AVest  S , Mass.,  Oct.  IG,  1875. 


New  York,  Oct.  28,  1875. 

The  Honorable and  Others  : 

Gentlemen,  — Your  favor  of  the  26th  instant  is  received,  asking 
me  to  speak  next  Monday  at  Faneuil  Hall  upon  the  political  issues 
of  to-day.  Thanking  you  for  its  courteous  terms,  I accept  your 
invitation,  and  am 

Very  truly  yours,  S.  L.  W. 


AVeatiiersfield,  20  May,  ’75. 

I am  here,  my  dear  brother,  having  arrived  last  evening. 

Affectionately  yours,  C.  AV. 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  these  examples  the  marks 
of  punctuation  between  the  address  and  the  body  of  the 
letter  differ.  The  comma  is  less  formal  than  the  colon, 
and  the  colon  alone  less  formal  than  the  dash  with 
cither  comma  or  colon. 


ILLUSTRATIVE  EXTRACTS. 


283 


III. 

ILLUSTRATIVE  EXTRACTS. 


[From  Irving’s  Olioer  Goldsmith.  New  York:  G.  P.  Putnam. 

1851.] 

Oliver  Goldsmith  was  born  on  the  10th  of  November, 
1728,  at  the  hamlet  of  Pallas,  or  Pallasmore,  county  of 
Longford,  in  Ireland.  He  sprang  from  a respectable, 
but  by  no  means  a thrifty,  stock.  Some  families  seem 
to  inherit  kindliness  and  incompetency,  and  to  hand 
down  virtue  and  poverty  from  generation  to  generation. 
Such  was  the  case  with  the  Goldsmiths.  “ They  were 
always,”  according  to  their  own  accounts,  “ a strange 
familj'';  they  rarely  acted  like  other  people  ; their  hearts 
Avere  in  the  right  place,  but  their  heads  seemed  to  be 
doing  any  thing  but  what  they  ought.”  — “ They  were 
remarkable,”  says  another  statement,  “ for  their  worth, 
but  of  no  cleverness  in  the  Avays  of  the  Avorld.”  Oliver 
Goldsmith  Avill  be  found  faithfully  to  inherit  the  virtues 
and  weaknesses  of  his  race. 

[From  R.  W.  Emerson’s  Society  and  Solitude.  Boston:  Fields, 
Osgood,  & Co.  1870.] 

Next  to  the  knoAvledge  of  the  fact  and  its  laAV  is 
method,  Avhich  constitutes  the  genius  and  efficiency  of 
all  remarkable  men.  A crowd  of  men  go  up  to  Faneuil 
Hall ; they  are  all  pretty  Avell  acquainted  Avith  the  ob- 
ject of  the  meeting  ; they  have  all  read  the  facts  in  the 
Id 


284 


APPENDIX. 


same  newspapers.  The  orator  possesses  no  information 
wliich  his  hearers  have  not ; yet  he  teaches  them  to  see 
the  thing  with  his  eyes.  By  the  new  placing,  the  cir- 
cumstances acquire  new  solidity  and  worth.  Every 
fact  gains  consequence  by  his  naming  it,  and  trifles 
become  important.  His  expressions  fix  themselves  in 
men’s  memories,  and  fly  from  mouth  to  mouth.  His 
mind  has  some  new  principle  of  order.  Where  he  looks, 
all  things  fly  into  their  places.  What  will  he  say  next? 
Let  this  man  speak,  and  this  man  only. 

[From  Gp;oitGE  Eliot’s  Middlemarcli.  William  Blackwood  & 
Sons:  Edinburgh  and  London.  1871.] 

This  Avas  the  physiognomy  of  the  draAving-room  into 
which  Lydgate  Avas  shown ; and  there  Avere  three  ladies 
to  receive  him,  Avho  Avere  also  old-fashioned,  and  of  a 
faded  but  genuine  respectability : Mrs.  Farebrother, 
the  Vicar’s  white-haired  mother,  befrilled  and  ker- 
chiefed with  dainty  cleanliness,  upright,  quick-eyed, 
and  still  under  seventy ; Miss  Noble,  her  sister,  a tiny 
old  lady  of  meeker  aspect,  with  frills  and  kerchief 
decidedly  more  worn  and  mended ; and  Miss  Winifred 
Farebrother,  the  Vicar’s  elder  sister,  Avell-looking  like 
himself,  but  nipped  and  subdued  as  single  women  are 
apt  to  be  who  spend  their  lives  in  uninterrupted  subjec- 
tion to  their  elders.  Lydgate  had  not  expected  to  see 
so  quaint  a group : knoAving  simply  that  Mr.  Fare- 
brother  Avas  a bachelor,  he  had  thought  of  being  ushered 
into  a snuggery  Avhere  the  chief  furniture  would  proba- 
bly be  books  and  collections  of  natural  objects.  The 
Vicar  himself  seemed  to  Avear  rather  a changed  aspect, 
as  most  men  do  when  acquaintances  made  elseAvhere  see 
them  for  the  first  time  in  their  OAvn  homes. 


U.LUSTRATIVE  EXTRACTS. 


285 


[From  ])anikl  Wkhstkr’s  Works.  Boston:  Little,  Brown,  & 
Co.  18G6.] 

Finally,  Gentlemen,  there  Avas  in  the  breast  of  Wash- 
ington one  sentiment  so  deeply  felt,  so  constantly  up- 
permost, that  no  proper  occasion  escaped  without  its 
utterance.  From  the  letter  which  he  signed  in  behalf 
of  the  Convention  when  the  Constitution  was  sent  out 
to  the  people,  to  the  moment  when  he  put  his  hand  to 
that  last  paper  in  Avhich  he  addressed  his  countiymen, 
the  Union, — the  Union  ^ was  the  great  object  of  his 
tlioughts.  In  that  first  letter  he  tells  them  that,  to  him 
and  his  brethren  of  the  Convention,  union  appears  to  be 
the  greatest  interest  of  every  true  American ; and  in 
that  last  paper  he  conjures  them  to  regard  that  unity  of 
government  which  constitutes  them  one  people  as  the 
very  palladium  of  their  prosperity  and  safety,  and  the 
security  of  liberty  itself.  He  regarded  the  union  ^ of 
these  States  less  as  one  of  our  blessings,  than  as  the 
great  treasure-house  which  contained  them  all.  Here, 
in  his  judgment,  Avas  the  great  magazine  of  all  our 
means  of  prosperity ; here,  as  he  thought,  and  as  every 
true  American  still  thinks,  are  deposited  all  our  animat- 
ing prospects,  all  our  solid  hopes  for  future  greatness. 
He  has  taught  us  to  maintain  this  union,  not  by  seeking 
to  enlarge  the  powers  of  the  government,  on  the  one 
hand,  nor  by  surrendering  them,  on  the  other;  but  by 
an  administration  of  them  at  once  firm  and  moderate, 
pursuing  objects  truly  national,  and  carried  on  in  a 
spirit  of  justice  and  equity.  . . . 

Gentlemen,  I propose  — “ The  IMemory  of  George 
Washington.” 


1 See  III.  p.  279. 


286 


APPENDIX. 


[From  J.  S.  Mill’s  Dissertations  and  Discussions.  New  York: 

Henry  Holt  & Co.  1873.] 

Is  there,  then,  no  remedy  ? Are  the  decay  of  indi- 
vidual energy,  the  weakening  of  the  influence  of  superior 
minds  over  the  multitude,  the  growth  of  charlatanerie,^ 
and  the  diminished  efficacy  of  public  opinion  as  a re- 
straining power,  — are  these  the  price  we  necessarily 
pay  for  the  benefits  of  civilization  ? and  can  they  only 
be  avoided  by  checking  the  diffusion  of  knowledge, 
discouraging  the  spirit  of  combination,  prohibiting  im- 
provements in  the  arts  of  life,  and  repressing  the  fur- 
ther increase  of  Avealth  and  of  production  ? Assuredly 
not.  Those  advantages  which  civilization  cannot  give 
■ — which  in  its  uncorrected  influence  it  has  even  a tend- 
ency to  destroy  — may  yet  co-exist  with  civilization ; 
and  it  is  only  when  joined  to  civilization  that  they  can 
produce  their  fairest  fruits.  All  that  Ave  are  in  danger 
of  losing  Ave  may  preserve,  all  that  Ave  have  lost  Ave  may 
regain,  and  bring  to  a perfection  hitherto  unknoAvn ; but 
not  by  slumbering,  and  leaving  things  to  themselves,  no 
more  than  by  ridiculously  trying  our  strength  against 
their  irresistible  tendencies : only  by  establishing  coun- 
ter-tendencies, which  may  combine  with  those  tenden- 
cies, and  modify  them. 

[From  Macaulay’s  Ilistory  of  England.  New  York : Harper  & 
Brothers.  1878.] 

When  this  had  been  done  it  Avould  be  impossible  for 
our  rulers  to  misunderstand  the  laAV : but,  unless  some- 
thing more  Avere  done,  it  was  by  no  means  improbable 
that  they  might  violate  it.  Unhappily  the  Church  had 
long  taught  the  nation  that  hereditary  monarchy,  alone 

1 Charlatanry  is  the  preferable  form. 


ILLUSTEATIVE  EXTRACTS. 


287 


among  our  institutions,  was  divine  and  inviolable  ; that 
the  right  of  the  House  of  Commons  to  a share  in  the 
legislative  power  was  a right  merely  human,  but  that 
the  right  of  the  King  to  the  obedience  of  his  people  was 
from  above  ; that  the  Great  Charter  Avas  a statute  which 
might  be  repealed  by  those  avIio  had  made  it,  but  that 
the  rule  which  called  the  princes  of  the  blood-royal  to 
the  throne  in  order  of  succession  was  of  celestial  origin, 
and  that  any  Act  of  Parliament  inconsistent  Avith  that 
rule  Avas  a nullity. 

[From  Thomas  Carla'le’s  Inaugural  Address,  in  Critical  and 

Miscellaneous  Essays.  New  York:  Scribner,  Welford,  & Co. 

1872.] 

Finally,  Gentlemen,  I have  one  advice  to  give  you, 
Avhich  is  practically  of  very  great  importance,  though 
a very  humble  one.  In  the  midst  of  your  zeal  and 
ardor,  — for  such,  I foresee,  Avill  rise  high  enough,  in 
spite  of  all  the  counsels  to  moderate  it  that  I can  give 
you, — remember  the  care  of  health.  I have  no  doubt 
you  have  among  you  young  souls  ardently  bent  to  con- 
sider life  cheap,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  forward  in 
Avhat  they  are  aiming  at  of  high ; but  you  are  to  con- 
sider throughout,  much  more  than  is  done  at  present, 
and  Avhat  it  Avould  have  been  a very  great  thing  for  me 
if  I had  been  able  to  consider,  that  health  is  a thing  to 
be  attended  to  continually  ; that  you  are  to  regard  that 
as  the  very  highest  of  all  temporal  things  for  you  \_Ap- 
plause].  There  is  no  kind  of  achievement  you  could 
make  in  the  woidd  that  is  equal  to  perfect  health. 
What  to  it  are  nuggets  and  millions  ? The  French 
financier  said,  “Why,  is  there  no  sleep  to  be  sold!” 
Sleep  Avas  not  in  the  market  at  any  quotation. 


288 


APPENDIX. 


[From  Hawthorne’s  Blithedale  Romance.  Boston:  J.  B.  Osgood 
& Co.  1875.] 

“ You  mistake  the  matter  completely,”  rejoined 
W estervelt. 

“ What,  then,  is  your  own  view  of  it  ? ” I asked. 

“ Her  mind  was  active,  and  various  in  its  powers,” 
said  he.  “ Her  heart  had  a manifold  adaptation  ; her 
constitution  an  infinite  buoyancy,  which  (had  she  pos- 
sessed only  a little  patience  to  await  the  reflux  of  her 
troubles)  would  have  borne  her  upward,  triumphantly, 
for  twenty  years  to  come.  Her  beauty  would  not  have 
waned  — or  scarcely  so,  and  surely  not  beyond  the  reach 
of  art  to  restore  it  — in  all  that  time.  She  had  life’s 
summer  all  before  her,  and  a hundred  varieties  of  brill- 
iant success.  What  an  actress  Zenobia  might  have 
been ! It  was  one  of  her  least  Amluable  capabilities. 
How  forcibly  she  might  have  wrought  upon  the  world, 
either  directly  in  her  own  person,  or  by  her  influence 
upon  some  man,  or  a series  of  men,  of  controlling 
genius ! Every  prize  that  could  be  worth  a woman’s 
having  — and  many  prizes  which  other  women  are  too 
timid  to  desire  — lay  within  Zenobia’s  reach.” 

“ In  all  this,”  I observed,  “ there  would  be  nothing 
to  satisfy  her  heart.” 

“ Her  heart ! ” answered  Westervelt,  contemptjiously. 


[Those  who  wish  still  further  to  pursue  the  study  of  Punct'iation 
,are  referred  to  Wilson’s  Treatise  on  the  .subject.] 


INDEX 


A. 

Abbreviatioxs,  bad  ones,  27 ; good 
ones,  28. 

Adjectives,  unwise  advice  to  young 
writers  concerning  use  of,  118.  See 
Adoerbs. 

Adverbs,  incorrect  use  of,  with  infini- 
tive, 43 ; incorrect  use  of,  for  adjec- 
tives, and  vice  versa,  47 ; statement 
of  general  principle  concerning  cor- 
rect use  of,  47 ; proper  position  of, 
135. 

Ambiguity,  of  general  terms  and  com- 
mon words,  G8-72.  See  Pronouns. 

Analog}-,  the  canon  of,  13;  arguments 
from,  defined  by  Whately  and  Mill, 
213-215;  false  analogies,  215-217; 
fanciful  analogies,  217,  218. 

Ancient  usage,  the  canon  of,  IG. 

And,  proper  and  improper  uses  of, 
IIG;  and  winch,  44.  See  Conjunc- 
tions ; Connectives. 

Anglo-Saxon,  words  from,  compared 
with  words  from  Latin,  74-79. 

Antecedent  Probability,  arguments 
from,  nature  of,  193;  vary  in  force, 
194;  value  of,  194;  misuse  of,  19G; 
writers  of  fiction  mainly  rely  on, 
19G ; logical  and  chronological  se- 
quence coincide  in,  197;  signs 
strengthened  by,  209 ; when  espe- 
cially necessary,  230. 

Antithesis,  aid  to  brevity.  12G;  value 
of,  129;  Burke’s  effective  use  of, 
1-30,  131;  mock,  131;  excessi'-e  use 
of,  — Macaulay  an  cxam])le,  131. 

Argumentative  Composition,  of  what 
the  body  of  every,  consists,  184,  185; 
importance  to  feasoner  of  having 
distinct  proposition  in  mind,  185; 
a term  is  not  a proposition,  18G-188 ; 
upon  what  cogency  of  Proof  de- 


pends, 188;  material  of  arguments, 
189;  logical  forms  of,  190;  same  ar- 
gument may  be  in  various  logical 
forms,  191;  same  argument  may  be 
used  directly  or  indirectly,  192 ; 
when  argument  may  be  said  to 
prove  too  much,  192;  direct  and 
indirect,  193;  classification  of,  193; 
importance  of  a Good  Arrangement, 
22G;  only  most  general  rules  for 
Arrangement  can  be  given,  227, 
228;  consideration  of  question  as 
to  whether  Proposition  or  Proof 
should  come  first,  227-229 ; Propo' 
sition  should  be  clear  and  brief, 
229;  arguments  of  each  division 
of  classification  liseful,  2-30;  order 
of  Proof,  230-2.32;  Kefutation,  233 ; 
when  to  waive  a point,  233,  234 ; 
expediency  of  treating  opponents 
fairly,  234,  235;  unanswerable  ar- 
guments on  each  side,  235 ; place 
for  Refutation,  23G;  order  of  Refuta- 
tion, 230  ; other  things  being  equal, 
the  shorter  the  Exordium  or  Pero- 
ration the  better,  245-247. 

Arrangement,  the  ideal,  1-29;  natural 
the  best,  151.  See  Argumentative 
Composition;  Afethod ; Sentences. 

Authority,  argument  from,  207,  208. 
See  Stpn. 

B. 

Barbarisms,  defined,  and  of  what 
they  consist,  19 ; summary  consid- 
eration of,  with  remarks  of  .lonsou. 
Pope,  Arnold,  and  Dryden,  28-30. 

Beauty.  See  Pler/ance. 

Begging  the  question,  19G. 

Bombast,  150. 

Brevity,  the  canon  of,  14;  importance 
of,  109 ; devices  for  obtaining,  125, 


290 


INDEX. 


1‘2G ; caution  against  misplaced,  128; 
importance  of,  in  statement  of  Prop- 
osition, 22!);  necessary  in  Introduc- 
tion and  Conclusion,  215-217.  See 
Cinicise7icss. 

Burden  of  Proof,  defined,  219 ; general 
rule  for,  in  courts  of  law,  219; 
same  principle  applicable  in  Argu- 
mentative Composition  as  in  courts 
»)f  law,  219;  consideration  of  ques- 
tion as  to  whether  Burden  of  Proof 
shifts  at  same  time  with  Presump- 
tion, 221;  never  to  be  assumed  un- 
necessarily, 225. 

Bui,  proper  and  improper  uses  of,  IIG. 
See  Conjunctions ; Connectives. 


c. 

Case.  See  Nominative;  Possessive; 
Objective. 

Circumlocution,  the,  a form  of  Ver- 
bosity, 121;  useful  ones,  122;  weak 
ones,  123;  sources  of,  121. 

Clauses.  See  Sentences. 

Clearness,  importance  of,  G5 ; diffi- 
cult to  attain  even  under  most  fa- 
vorable conditions,  G5 ; these  re- 
marks applied  to  Macaulay,  G5 ; 
main  secret  of  Macaulay’s  success, 
6G  ; a relative  quality,  67 ; distinc- 
tion between  precision  and,  67-70; 
particular  terms  generally  clear,  81; 
the  use  of  too  many  words  a sin 
against,  109;  requisites  of, — what 
is  distinct  in  thought  should  be 
distinct  in  expression,  135;  empha- 
sis on  unimportant  words  hostile  to, 
1-39 ; brief  definition  of,  1G2.  See 
Force. 

Climax,  aid  to  brevity,  12G;  the,  how 
constituted,  133 ; advantages  of, 
133,  131;  the  anti,  — effective  as  a 
weapon  of  irony,  135 ; principle  of, 
applies  to  reasoning  as  well  as  to 
style,  231. 

Composition,  three  things  that  should 
be  regarded  in  every  spoken  or 
written,  63;  the  unity  of,  its  impor- 
tance, 158;  how  to  be  acquired,  161 ; 
the  four  requisites  of  good,  162.  See 
Argumentative  Composition. 

Conciseness,  a relative  quality,  109; 
caution  against  excessive,  110.  See 
BreviUj. 

Conclusion,  defined,  181. 

Conjunctions,  incorrect  use  of,  before 
relative  pronouns,  41;  rule  for  use 


of  as  and  than,  45;  use  of  than  as 
jireposition  in  phrase  than  jvhom 
an  exception  to,  46;  incon'ect  use 
of  or  with  neither,  46.  See  Con- 
nectives. 

Connectives,  omission  of,  107 ; value 
of  judicious  use  of,  108;  misuse  of, 
116,  117 ; proper  position  of  those 
known  as  correspondents,  136. 

Correctness  of  expression,  importance 
of,  1;  requisites  to,  2;  brief  defini- 
tion of,  102. 

Correspondents,  position  of,  136. 

Custom,  the  mistress  of  language, — 
Ben  Jonson,  20. 

D. 

Deduction,  defined,  180. 

Definitions,  when  necessarj’,  70. 

Divided  usage,  room  for  argument  in 
case  of,  11. 

E. 

Elegance,  defined,  100;  opposed  to 
Vulgarity,  100;  opposed  to  use  of 
word  in  two  senses  in  the  same  sen- 
tence, 101 ; opposed  to  use  of  verbal 
nouns  in  - inn,  101,  102;  contrasted 
with  Force,  i02,  103;  requires  that 
emphasis  should  not  be  thrown  on 
unimportant  word,  139 ; brief  defi- 
nition of,  162. 

Eloquence,  remarks  on,  by  R.  "VV. 
Emerson,  67. 

English,  good,  false  tests  of,  2,  3;  de- 
fined, 5;  true  test  of,  5;  offences 
against,  19. 

English  language,  classification  of 
offences  against  usage  of,  19;  un- 
dergoes comparatively  few  changes 
of  form,  31;  is  composite,  78. 

Enthj’meme,  exemplified,  191. 

Epithets,  redundant  ones,  118;  ser- 
viceable ones,  119,  120. 

Etymological  theory  in  the  choice  and 
use  of  words,  3,  74 ; why  of  little 
practical  use,  74-78 ; probable  origin 
of.  78. 

Euphemisms,  how  they  arise,  83. 

Euphony,  the  canon  of,  14,  15 ; undue 
weight  not  to  be  given  to,  15. 

Exaggerating  method  of  Persuasion, 
241. 

Example,  arguments  from,  nature  of, 
209 ; real  and  invented  examples, 
210;  invented  examples  that  are 


INDEX. 


291 


antecedently  improbable  have  no 
force,  210,  211;  real  examples  vary 
in  force,  211;  argumentative  and 
illustrative  examples,  212;  argu- 
ments from  analogy  one  of  the  most 
common  forms  of  arguments  from, 
— defined  by  Whatelv  and  Mill, 
213-215. 

Exordium,  model  of,  245;  <iualities  of 
a good,  245-247. 

Experts,  testimony  of,  203. 

Extenuating  method  of  Persuasion, 
241. 

Extremes  in  number  of  words,  to  be 
avoided,  110. 

F. 

Fact,  matters  of,  distinguished  from 
matters  of  opinion,  201-203. 

Fallacies  of  confusion,  what  they  are; 
how  caused ; extract  from  Mills’s 
Logic  concerning,  71. 

Fastidiousness,  excessive,  in  the  use  of 
language,  3-5. 

Feelings,  true  relation  between  facts 
and,  2.38;  how  to  reach,  230. 

Fiction,  argument  in,  from  Antece- 
dent Probability,  100;  from  E.xam- 
ple,  210,  211. 

Fine  writing,  vulgarity  of,  70,  80;  de- 
sire to  be  humorous  a potent  cause 
of,  80;  designation  of  specific  object 
by  a general  term  one  form  of,  81-83. 

Force,  meaning  and  value  of,  84,  85; 
in  majority  of  cases  to  be  attained 
by  Clearness,  85 ; exceptions  to  this 
rule,  80,  87 ; how  plain  prose  may 
be  superior  to  figurative  language, 
98;  to  be  gained  by  use  of  words 
of  which  the  sound  suggests  the 
meaning,  99;  contrasted  with  Ele- 
gance, 102,  103 ; the  use  of  too 
many  words  a sin  against,  109;  re- 
quires that  important  words  should 
be  in  emphatic  places,  142;  gram- 
matical limitation  on  this  rule  in 
English,  143 ; brief  definition  of, 
102. 

Frigid  writing,  what  it  is,  and  how  it 
arises,  95,  90. 

G. 

Gallicisms,  55. 

General  terms.  See  Terms. 

Grammar,  basis  of  Rhetoric,  1. 

Grammatical  purity,  defined,  2. 


I. 

Illusion,  how  produced,  171 ; three 
methods  mentioned,  171;  I.,  with 
e.xamples,  172-174;  II.,  with  exam- 
ples, 174,  175  ; III.,  with  examples, 
170-178. 

Improprieties,  defined,  19;  examples 
of,  in  which  sound  misleads,  50-52 ; 
in  which  resemblance  in  sense  mis- 
leads, 52-54;  in  which  both  mislead, 
54,  55;  of  foreign  origin,  55;  illus- 
trations of,  58-00;  in  phrases,  01; 
sometimes  rhetorically  defensible, 
01,  02.  See  Tautology, 

Induction,  defined,  189. 

Inference,  defined,  184. 

Infinitive,  incorrect  use  of,  with  ad- 
verb, 43. 

-Iny,  words  in,  43,  101. 

Irony,  defined,  193. 


L. 

Language,  fastidiousness  in  the  use 
of,  — remarks  of  Walter  Savage 
Landor,  3-5;  only  one  sound  prin- 
ciple of  judgment  in  the  use  of,  5; 
analogy  between  law  and,  10,  11; 
subject  to  change,  19;  Swift's 
strange  proposal  concerning,  20; 
the  fashion  of,  20 ; how  it  grows, 
24;  figurativeness  of,  93,  94;  in 
what,  as  an  art  of  communication,  it 
differs  from  painting  and  sculpture, 
167 ; limitations  of,  168,  169 ; crea- 
tive power  of,  178-180. 

Latin,  words  from,  compared  with 
words  from  Anglo-Saxon,  74-79. 

Latinisms,  55. 

Logic,  province  of  formal,  190 ; prov- 
ince of  inductive,  and  in  what  it 
differs  from  Rhetoric,  190 ; sequence 
of,  distinguished  from  chronologi- 
cal, 197. 


M. 

METAriiOR,  the,  differs  from  simile 
only  in  form,  90;  its  superiority  to 
simile,  90;  reason  for,  91;  when 
simile  is  preferable  to,  91,  92;  use 
of  both  forms  combined,  92,  93; 
mixed  metaphors,  96-98. 

Method,  defined,  181;  not  always  es- 
sential, 181;  paramount  importance 


292 


INDEX. 


of,  to  narrative,  181;  habit  of,  char- 
acteristic of  educated  men,  181-183. 
See  Arrangement, 

Metonymy.  See  Synecdoche. 


N. 

Narrative,  essentials  of  a good, 
1G7 ; importance  of  movement  to  a, 
1G7-180;  of  method  to  a,  181-183. 

Negatives,  double,  erroneous  use  of 
some  forms  of,  49. 

Nominative  case,  use  of,  for  objective 
case,  45. 

Nouns,  incorrect  use  of  singular  and 
plural,  32 ; incorrect  use  of  singular, 
with  plural  verb,  33,  34. 

Number  of  words.  See  IFort/s. 


O. 

Objective.  See  Nominative. 

Obscurity,  in  pronouns,  72-74. 

Omission,  faults  of,  35,  36;  of  essen- 
tial part  of  verb  from  sentence,  3G ; 
of  words  necessary  to  complete 
sense,  37 ; of  grammatical  connec- 
tion between  a word  and  rest  of 
sentence,  38;  of  the  article,  104; 
of  necessary  words,  106 ; of  connec- 
tives, 107 ; of  words  in  imaginative 
writing,  107. 

Opinion,  matters  of,  distinguished 
from  matters  of  fact,  201-203. 

Order.  See  Argumentative  Composi- 
tion; Sentences. 


P. 

Painting  and  Sculpture,  limitations 
of,  as  arts  of  communication,  167, 
168. 

Paragraphs,  value  of,  125;  formation 
of,  157. 

Paranhrase,  the,  a form  of  Verbosity', 

120,  121. 

Parenthetical  expressions,  position  of, 
140. 

Participles,  incorrect  use  of,  42;  dis- 

I*  tinction  between,  and  verbal  nouns 
in  -imy,  43. 

Periodic  sentence.  See  Sentences. 

Periphrasis,  the.  See  Circumlocution. 

Peroration,  qualities  of  a good,  245- 
247 ; model  of,  245. 


Personification,  one  of  the  most  forci- 
ble tropes,  88,  89 ; d.angers  of,  89. 

Perspicuity,  the  canon  of,  12,  13.  See 
Clearness. 

Persuasion,  wh}^  a necessary  form  of 
Argumentative  Composition,  237 ; 
how  to  influence  the  will,  237 ; true 
relation  between  facts  and  feelings, 
238 ; how  to  reach  the  feelings, 
239-241;  exaggerating  and  ejeten- 
uating  methods,  241;  reputation 
speaker  should  have,  242;  disadvan- 
tages of  reputation  for  eloquence, 
242-244. 

Petitio  principii,  196,  211. 

Phrases,  improprieties  in,  61. 

Pleonasm.  See  Redundancy. 

Plural.  See  Nouns;  Pronouns. 

Possessive  case,  incorrect  use  of,  48; 
Marsh’s  rule  for,  48. 

Precision,  distinction  between  Clear- 
ness and,  G7-70. 

Premises,  defined,  184,  190. 

Prepositions,  use  of  wrong,  47. 

Presumption,  defined,  220;  of  law, 
220,  221;  of  fact,  221-223;  how  to 
be  overcome,  223;  one  method  of 
rebutting  a,  is  to  raise  a counter- 
presumption, 223;  shifts  from  side 
to  side,  224. 

Probability,  preponderance  of,  206. 
See  Antecedent  Probability. 

Progressive  tendency,  argument  from. 
See  Sign. 

Prolixity,  a form  of  Verbositv,  124, 
125. 

Pronouns,  incorrect  use  of  those  that 
differ  in  number  from  their  ante- 
cedents, 32,  33;  incorrect  use  of  sin- 
gular, with  plural  verb,  33,  34;  in- 
correct use  of  either  or  any  one, 
the  former,  the  frst,  &c.,  49;  com- 
ment on  use  of  phrase  the  last  of 
two,  49;  obscure  or  equivocal,  72; 
no  fault  more  common  than  obscure 
or  ambiguous  use  of,  72 ; exainpie.s, 
72-74 ; proper  position  of,  137. 

Proof,  defined,  184;  what  it  compre- 
hends, 188.  See  Argumentative 
Composition;  Burden  of. 

Proper  names  of  foreign  extraction, 
foreign  fashions  in  spelling,  25- 
27. 

Proposition,  defined,  184.  See  Argu- 
mentative Composition. 

Provincialisms,  instances  of,  7. 

Proving  too  much,  192. 

Purity,  grammatical.  See  Correct- 
ness of  Expression. 


INDEX. 


293 


Q- 

Quot.vtioxs,  value  of  apt,  126. 


R. 

Ratiocination.  See  Syllorjism. 

Rtductio  ad  absurdiim,  1SJ2. 

Redundancy,  no  fault  in  composi- 
tion assumes  more  various  forms 
than,  115;  accumulation  of  adjec- 
tives a common  form  of,  118. 

Refutation,  233-236.  See  Avyumeiita- 
tive  Composition. 

Relative  pronouns,  icf/o,  whom,  whose, 
incorrectly  used  for  one  another, 
43,  44;  incorrectly  used  to  refer  to 
impersonal  objects,  44;  which  incor- 
rectly used  with  clause  as  antece- 
dent, 44;  and  which,  44  ; importance 
of  the  presence  or  absence  of  deli- 
nite  article  or  demonstrative  pro- 
noun before  antecedents  of,  105. 

Repetition,  v'alue  and  methods  of  skil- 
ful, 110-112;  unskilful,  112. 

Reputation,  desirable  for  speaker,  242; 
in  point  of  character,  242;  for 
something  else  than  eloquence,  242- 
244. 

Rlietoric,  Grammar  the  basis  of,  1 ; 
when  it  overrules  Grammar,  61,  62; 
in  what  it  differs  from  Inductive 
Logic,  190. 


S. 

Sensation.al,  defined,  103. 

Sentences,  balanced,  advantages  and 
disadvantages  of,  132;  construction 
of,  should  not  be  changed  without 
cause,  137 ; introduction  of  a new 
word,  even  in  order  to  avoid  rep- 
etition, may  produce  inelegance, 
138 ; dependent  and  independent 
clauses  should  be  kept  apart,  139; 
proper  position  of  parenthetical  ex- 
pressions, 140;  proper  position  of 
principal  words,  141,  142;  real  sub- 
ject may  not  be  grammatical  subject, 
143-145  ; difference  between  poetical 
and  prose  order,  145,  146;  Latin  or 
German  order,  imitation  of,  146, 147 ; 
theories  of  Bentham  and  Spencer 
concerning,  147,  148;  that  arrange- 
ment which  conduces  most  to  clear- 
ness the  best,  151 ; periodic  and 


loose,  comparative  value  of,  152-154; 
labyrinthine,  argument  against,  by 
De’Quincey,  154;  asthmatic,  argu- 
ment against,  by  Coleridge,  155; 
long  or  short,  155;  how  to  end, 
156 ; Blair's  rules  for  preserving  the 
unity  of,  159,  160. 

Sentimental,  defined,  103. 

Sign,  arguments  from,  nature  of,  197- 
199;  vary  in  force,  199;  argument 
from  Testimony  a form  of,  200, 
201 ; differences  among  witnesses, 
201 ; matters  of  fact  and  matters  of 
opinion,  201-203;  testimony  of  ex- 
perts, 203 ; unwilling  and  undesigned 
testimony,  203,  204;  force  of  allu- 
sions to  historical  facts,  204;  argu- 
ment from  Silence  a form  of,  205; 
force  of  concurrent  testimony,  205, 
206;  preponderance  of  probabilities, 
206 ; argument  from  Authority  to 
be  distinguished  from,  207,  208; 
argument  from  a continuously  pro- 
gressive tendency,  208;  strength- 
ened by  arguments  from  Antecedent 
Probability,  209. 

Simile,  the,  position  of,  Herbert  Spen- 
cer’s theory  concerning,  148 ; argu- 
ment on  the  other  side,  148-151. 
See  Metaphor. 

Singular.  See  Nouns;  Pronouns. 

Slang,  examples  of,  28;  poverty  of 
language  the  source  of  much,  64. 

Solecisms,  defined,  19;  special  reason 
for  pointing  out,  31,  32. 

Sophistry,  in  what  it  consists,  — Cole- 
ridge, 71. 

Sound,  that  suggests  sense,  99. 

Specific  terms.  See  Terms. 

Spelling,  foreign  fashions  in,  25. 

Style,  what  is  meant  by  a suggestive. 
Its  value,  and  upon  what  its  success 
depends,  125, 127 ; Swift’s  definition 
of  a good,  163 ; Locke’s  rules  for  a 
good,  163;  Spencer’s  theory  of,  163; 
insufficiency  of  his  theory,  164; 
principle  which  underlies  all  rhetor- 
ical rules  of,  — Unit}'  with  Variety, 
— remarks  of  Newman,  Silencer, 
Emerson,  164-166. 

Suggestive  Style.  Sec  Rtyle. 

Syllogism,  definition  of,  190;  essen- 
tials of  a legitimate,  190;  various 
forms  of,  191. 

Synecdoche  and  llctonymy,  what  they 
are,  87.  88 ; in  what  their  force  con- 
sists, 88. 

Synonymes,  tendency  of,  to  disap- 
pear, 77. 


294 


INDEX. 


T. 

Tautology,  crudest  form  of  repeti- 
tion, tautologoiis  expres- 

sions classed  among  Improprieties, 
60. 

Tense  of  dependent  verb  determined 
by  its  relation  to  verb  on  which  it 
depends,  38,  39;  exception  to  this 
rule  in  case  of  general  proposition 
into  which  notion  of  time  does  not 
enter,  39;  distinction  between  the 
use  of  shall  and  will,  39,  40;  extract 
from  Sir  E.  W.  Head’s  work  on 
“ Shalt  and  Will,”  40-42. 

Terms,  general,  68;  office  of,  84.  See 
Fine  Writing. 

Testimon3'.  See  Sign. 

Transition,  the  art  of,  157,  158. 

Tropes,  defined,  87 ; value  and  uses 
of,  98. 

U. 

Unity  of  composition,  importance  of, 
158, 186;  Blair’s  rules  for  preserving 
in  sentence,  159,  160;  how  to  ac- 
quire, 161 ; conjoined  with  variety, 
164-166;  the  ideal,  166;  leading 
thought  source  of,  in  sentence,  183. 

Use,  good,  defined,  5,  6;  reputable,  6; 
national,  7,  8 ; present,  8 ; bounda- 
ries of  present,  9,  10;  grammarians 
and  lexicographers  governed  b}’, 
10 ; its  decision  supreme,  16-18. 


V. 

Variety,  aid  to  brevitiq  126.  See 
Unity. 

Verbs,  should  be  singular  when  sub- 


ject though  plural  in  form  is  singu- 
lar in  sense,  and  vice  versa,  34,  35. 

Verbosity,  in  what  it  differs  from 
Tautology  and  Redundanc}',  120; 
varieties  of,  120-125. 

Vocabularv,  value  of  an  ample,  63; 
how  to  enlarge  one,  64. 

Vulgarisms,  instances  of,  24,  25,  31; 
extract  from  Mill’s  “Logic”  con- 
cerning, 55-58. 


W. 

Which.  See  Relative  Pronouns. 

Who.  See  Relative  Pronouns. 

Will,  the,  how  to  influence,  237. 

Witnesses.  See  Sign. 

Words,  of  foreign  origin,  21 ; obsta- 
cles to  their  introduction,  22;  ex- 
cessive use  of,  22,  23;  formation  of 
new,  great  latitude  allowed  in,  24; 
Avhat  conditions  should  be  fulfilled, 
25 ; to  be  left  to  the  poets  and  great 
prose  writers,  30;  of  low  origin,  28; 
the  meanings  given  them  should  be 
the  meanings  assigned  b3^  good 
usage,  50;  errors  in  the  use  of, 
arising  from  similarity  of  sound, 
50-52;  errors  arising  from  similarit3'- 
in  sense,  52-54;  errors  arising  from 
similarity  in  both  sound  and  sense, 
54;  Gallicisms  and  Latinisms,  use 
of,  55 ; quotations  from  eminent 
authors  to  illustrate  errors  in  the 
use  of,  55-60;  choice  of,  6.3-103;  the 
more  specific  the3'are  the  less  likelv 
to  be  bookish,  83;  office  of  general 
terms,  84;  use  of,  in  both  a literal 
and  a figurative  sense,  94,  95;  fault 
of  using  too  few,  104;  fault  of  using 
too  manv,  109;  the  ideal  arrange- 
ment of,  129;  use  of,  in  inventories, 
169;  in  deetriptions,  170. 


INDEX  TO  APPENDIX 


Abbreviations,  how  punctuated, 
274. 

Absolute  exDiessions,  how  punctuated, 

201. 

Adjectival  expres.sions,  how  punctu- 
ated, 261. 

Adverbial  expressions,  how  punctu- 
ated, 201. 

Adverbs,  how  punctuated  when  used 
as  conjunctions,  202. 

Also,  examples  of,  how  punctuated, 
208,  270,  271,  278. 

And,  when  to  be  preceded  by  punctua- 
tion marks  and  when  not,  2D7-259, 
208. 

Apostrophe,  use  of,  270. 

Apposition,  words  or  phrases  in,  how 
punctuated,  200. 

Authorities.  See  References. 

Brackets,  u.se  of,  264. 

Bat,  when  to  be  preceded  by  punctua- 
tion marks,  and  when  not,  257-259, 
268. 

Capital  Letters,  at  beginning  of 
.sentence  or  line  of  poetry,  279 ; 
at  beginning  of  quotations,  279;  in 
proper  names,  279,  280 ; in  titles, 
prefaces,  &c.,  280 ; at  beginning  of 
separately  numbered  clauses,  280; 
O and  oh,  281 ; in  letters,  281,  282. 

Citations  of  authorities,  277. 

Colon,  use  of,  to  indicate  an  ellipsis, 
200;  between  two  independent  clau- 
ses, 268;  to  connect  successive  short 
sentences,  270 ; in  compound  sen- 
tences, 271 ; before  formal  state- 
ments and  quotations,  272. 

Comma,  use  of,  with  words  in  a se- 
ries, 257-259 ; between  words  or 
phrases  in  apposition,  200;  with 
vocative  words  or  expressions,  201 ; 
with  adverbs,  adverbial,  participial, 
adjectival,  and  absolute  expressions. 


201,  202;  with  relative  clauses,  263; 
with  parenthetic  expressions,  264, 
205;  with  elliptical  sentences,  200; 
between  two  clauses,  one  of  which 
depends  on  the  other,  207 ; between 
two  independent  clauses.  208 ; before 
quotations,  272;  with  figures,  274; 
to  distinguish  component  parts  of 
sentences,  277. 

Compound  words,  275. 

Conjunctions,  how  punctuated  in  a 
series  257-259. 

Correspondence.  See  Letters. 

Dash,  v,ss  of,  273 ; alone  or  combined 
with  comma  between  words  or 
phrases  in  apposition,  200 ; with 
parenthetic  expressions,  204;  com- 
bined with  comma  to  indicate  an 
ellipsis,  266;  combined  with  colon 
or  comma  before  quotations,  272. 

Dates,  how  punctuated,  274,  270,  281, 
282. 

Dependent  clauses,  how  punctuated, 
207 ; effect  of  position  of  depend- 
ent with  reference  to  independent 
clause,  207 ; dependent  clauses  in 
a series,  how  punctuated,  209. 

Derivative  words,  275. 

Elision,  how  indicated,  276. 

Ellipsis,  how  indicated,  200. 

Emphasis,  how  attained  by  punctua- 
tion, 273,  280. 

Exclamation  point,  use  of,  274. 

Expressions  in  a series.  See  Series. 

Eye,  punctuation  in  service  of,  277 ; 
reason  for  omission  of  stops,  250; 
for  insertion  of  stops,  277. 

Figures,  how  punctuated,  274. 

For.  what  punctuation  should  precede, 
208. 

Formal  statements,  how  punctuated, 
272. 


296 


INDEX  TO  APPENDIX. 


Gentlemen,  when  to  begin  M-ith 
small  letter,  and  when  with  capital, 
280 ; examples,  252,  285,  287. 

Headings,  how  punctuated,  274. 

However,  how  punctuated,  202. 

Hyphen,  use  of,  275. 

Indeed,  how  punctuated,  202. 

Independent  clauses,  two  connected 
bv  a conjunction,  how  punctuated, 
208. 

Interrogation  point,  use  of,  274, 

Italics,  as  substitute  for  quotation 
marks,  275;  for  emphasis,  280. 

Its,  and  similar  words,  not  to  be  writ- 
ten with  apostrophe,  270. 

Lettehs,  punctuation  and  capitalizing 
of,  281,  282.  See  Capitals. 

Namely,  ellipsis  of,  206. 

Nor,  when  to  be  preceded  by  punctua- 
tion marks,  and  when  not,  257-259, 
208. 

Now,  how  punctuated,  262. 

Numerals,  Koman,  how  punctuated, 
277. 

0,  oh,  how  punctuated,  281. 

Omission,  of  words,  letters,  or  figures, 
how  indicated,  273. 

Or,  when  to  be  preceded  by  punctua- 
tion marks,  and  when  not,  257-259, 
204,  208. 

Oars.  See  Its. 

Parenthesis,  use  of,  204. 

Parenthetic  expressions,  how  punctu- 
ated, 204,  205 ; principle  which  re- 
quires them  to  be  set  off  from  rest 
of  sentence  may  sometimes  be  vio- 
lated to  advantage,  265. 

Participial  expressions,  how  punctu- 
ated, 201. 

Pauses,  not  correspondent  to  punctua- 
tion, 250. 

Period,  use  of,  at  end  of  every  com- 
plete sentence,  274;  after  abbrevia- 
tions, headings,  and  sub-headings, 
274;  with  Roman  numerals,  277. 

Plurals,  formation  of  certain,  by  aid  of 
apostrophe,  276. 

Possessive  case,  how  indicated,  276; 
substitute  for,  270. 

Proper  names,  to  begin  with  capitals, 
279. 

Punctuation,  the  guides  to  correct, 
249;  varies  with  thought  and  ex- 
pression, 249 ; purpose  of,  249,  250 ; 


spoken  and  written  discourse  not 
governed  by  same  rules,  250;  ab- 
surdity of  some  of  the  old  rules, 

250,  251;  points  used,  and  general 
remarks  concerning  their  use,  251 ; 
examples  giving  general  idea  of 
principal  uses  of  the  several  points, 
with  remarks  on  each  example,  252- 
257 ; in  the  service  of  the  eve,  277, 
278. 

Quotation  Marks,  use  of,  275. 

Quotations,  how  punctuated,  272,  275; 
should  begin  with  a capital,  279. 

References  to  authorities,  how  punc- 
tuated, 273,  275,  277. 

Relative  clauses,  how  punctuated,  263. 

Rhetorical  emphasis.  See  Emphasis. 

Seaiicolon,  use  of,  between  two  inde- 
pendent clauses,  208;  between  de- 
pendent expressions  in  a series, 
269 ; to  connect  successive  short  sen- 
tences, 270;  in  compound  sentences, 
271. 

Sentences,  a succession  of  short,  how 
punctuated,  270;  compound,  how 
punctuated,  271;  how  to  begin,  279; 
how  to  end,  274. 

Series,  words  or  expressions  in  a,  how 
punctuated,  257-259;  dependent  ex- 
pressions in  a,  how  punctuated,  269. 

Sir,  when,  to  begin  with  small  letter, 
and  when  with  capital,  280,  281; 
examples,  250,  261,  281. 

Taste,  a guide  to  punctuation,  249, 

251. 

Texts  of  Scripture,  how  punctuated, 
278. 

That  is,  ellipsis  of,  266. 

Then,  how  punctuated,  262. 

Tickets,  ffty  cents,  how  punctuated, 
266. 

Titles  of  books,  how  punctuated,  275; 
to  be  written  in  capitals,  280;  how 
separated  from  subject-matter,  273. 

Too,  how  punctuated,  262;  at  end  of 
sentence,  262. 

Vocative  Words  or  expressions, 
how  punctuated,  261. 

Words  in  apposition.  See  Apposition. 

Words  in  a series.  See  Senes. 

Yet,  when  to  be  preceded  by  punctu- 
ation marks,  and  when  not,  257-259, 
268. 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES, 


A and  the,  104. 

A men'eille,  24. 

A No.  1,  8. 

Abatis,  21. 

Abattoir,  8. 

Able  (adjectives  in),  IG. 
Ablution  (regular),  80. 
Abolishment,  17. 
Abolition,  17. 

Above  par,  8. 

Absolutism,  GO. 

Accept  of,  14. 
Accordingly,  70,  108. 
According  to,  108. 
Acknowledgment  (grate- 
ful), 70. 

Acquainted  of,  48. 
Ac(iuire  knowledge,  05. 
Actable,  IG. 

Acute,  27,  04. 

Addenda  (an),  32. 
Address  to,  14. 

Adit,  21. 

Admire,  7.  [13. 

Admission,  Admittance, 
Admit,  54. 

Admit  of,  14. 
Adullamite,  28. 

Advent,  8. 

Alfred,  26. 

AUschylus,  2G. 

Afeard,  21. 

Affection,  8. 

Aforesaid,  8. 

Alter,  Afterwards,  12. 
Aggravating,  5G.  [GO. 
Aggregate,  Aggregated,8, 
Aggressor  (lirst),  GO. 
Agricultural  interest,  80. 
Agriculturalist,  24. 

Ain’t  going  (I),  31. 
Alcohol,  21. 

Ale.xandcr,  2G. 

Alfred,  2G. 

All  (for  the  whole),  54. 
All  the  world,  Gl. 
Alliance,  70. 

Alligator,  21. 

Allow  (I),  6. 


Allude  to,  52,  50. 
Allusions,  52. 

Almanac,  21. 

Almost,  as  adjective,  47. 
Alone,  5G. 

Amateur,  22. 
Ambassador,  17. 

Among  one  another,  47. 
Ancient,  77. 

And  (both),  13G. 

.Viul,  but,  110. 

And  now,  8. 

.\nd  so,  182. 

And  then.  And  there,  182. 
And  which,  44,  45. 

And  who,  45,  55. 
Anne.xation,  18. 
Annexion,  17.  ' 

Annul,  13. 

Anon,  10. 

Another  to,  47. 
Antagonize,  8. 

Antique,  17. 

Anxious  seat,  8. 

.‘Vny  one,  40. 

Any  wise,  14. 

Aphrodite,  27. 
Apparentl}',  52. 
Appreciate,  8. 

Approve  of,  14. 

Ardor  of  tire,  04. 
Argument,  53. 

Arkadia,  20. 

.\rmcd,  10. 

Around  (come),  25. 

.'Vrrive  at  honors,  05. 

Art,  78.  [ness,  15. 
Artificiality,  Artificial- 
Artist  (tonsorial),  70. 

As,  45. 

As,  for  that,  31. 

As  lief,  4,  17. 

As  was  to  be,  31. 

Assist  at,  55. 

Assurance,  12. 

.Vttain  to,  14. 

Attention,  04. 

.In  contra  ire,  48. 

Aught,  12. 


Authenticalness,  Authen- 
ticity, 15. 

Availed  of,  24. 
Averseness,  Aversion,  15. 
Averse  from,  47. 
Avocation,  52,  58. 

Axe,  for  ask,  21. 

Aware,  52. 

Awful,  04. 

[15. 

B.vcKw.vitn,  Backwards, 
Bad  habits,  83. 

Balance,  8. 

Bald-head,  88. 

Bang,  00. 

Banter,  17,  28. 

Bur  (the),  88. 

Barn-burner,  28. 

Bas  bleu,  8. 

Based  on  sources,  05. 
Battle-born  green- 
back, 110. 

Balked  of,  80. 

Be  I?  31. 

Be  (to),  47. 

Beans,  80. 

Bear  no  malice,  05. 
Beastly,  G4. 

Beat,  ileaten,  13. 

Beating  (is),  10. 

Beau  monde,  23. 
Beautifullest,  15. 

Because,  70. 

Become  known,  55. 

Begin,  10. 

Being  (is),  IG. 

Being  beaten,  10.  [IG. 

Being  built.  Being  sold. 
Behave,  Behavior,  54. 
Beholden,  21. 

Bench  (the),  88.  [48. 

Bennington’s  Centennial, 
Beside,  Besides,  15. 

Better,  00,  70. 

Better  (had),  14. 

Better  (might),  13.  [48. 

Between  the  treatment. 
Between  you  and  I,  31. 
Betwi.xf,  10. 


298  INDEX 


Bigot,  28. 

Black  horse,  148. 

JJluscs,  2.1. 

Bloody,  77. 

Bloody  revolution,  119. 
Bkie-stoekiiig,  8,  28. 
Bogus,  0. 

Bold  and  audacious,  115. 
Bombast,  28. 

Boom,  99. 

Bookish,  8.'!. 

Bore,  Borne,  13. 

Both,  and,  13(1. 

22. 

Boughten,  7. 

Boycotting,  28. 

Bo.ves,  8. 

Bragly,  21. 

Breathing  its  last,  81. 
Breed  up,  14. 

Brkic,  22. 

Bridge  over,  14. 

Brush  off  of,  14. 

Budget,  22. 

Building  interest,  79. 
Bulldoze,  28. 

Bullkin,  21. 

Bully,  7. 

Bumble-bee,  99. 
Bummer.s,  7. 

Buncombe,  28. 
Buonaparte,  20. 

Bureau  of  Pomona,  79. 
Burglarized,  25. 

But  also,  130. 

But,  and,  110. 

But  what,  31. 

Buzz,  99. 

By  dint  of,  4. 

O.Mi,  28. 

Cabal,  28. 

Cable  (to),  0. 

( 'ablegram,  25. 

Cubriuht,  28. 

('alculate  (I),  0. 

Calling,  52. 

Calling  away  from,  52. 
Canoe,  21. 

Cant,  28. 

Capital  seeking  invest- 
ment, 71. 

Cargo,  21. 

Carpet-bag,  88.  [8. 

Carriages,  Cars  (railroad ), 
Casket,  83. 

Caste,  21. 

Castor,  25. 

Caucus,  28. 

Cemetery,  83. 


OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES. 


Ceremonial,  50. 
Ceremonious,  50,  58. 
Chamber,  7. 

Champion  (to),  8. 
Charity,  09,  77. 

Chemist,  78.  [17,  21. 

Chemistry,  Chymistry, 
Cherubim,  Cherubinis,' 32. 
Cherubin,  32. 

Chess,  21. 

Chevnl  noir,  148. 
Chevalier  d’iridus/rie,  8. 
Childish,  52. 

Childlike.  52. 

Choir,  13. 

Chum,  for  comrade,  28. 
Church,  09. 

Cigar,  21. 

Circulatiug  medium,  71. 
Cit,  Citizen,  27,  100. 
Civilization,  78. 

Claim  that  (1 ),  8. 

Clamber  up  into,  14. 
Clarify,  Clear  (to),  50. 
Clear  (more),  for  clearer. 
Clergyman,  78.  [15. 

Clever,  17,  28. 

Climb  (a),  25. 

Coal,  Coals,  8. 

Coal  collier,  00. 

Coal  (to),  24. 

Coiffee  a rartr,  23. 
Coilective,  35. 

Collegiate  (a),  21. 
Colossal,  79. 

Come  around.  Come 
round,  25. 

Confortahle,  22. 
Commence,  10. 

Comment  upon,  150. 
Commodore,  21. 

Common,  53. 
Commonweal,  for  com- 
monwealth, 21. 
Complete  (most),  00. 
Compo,  Composition,  27. 
Compromise,  Cwnpru- 
mis,  57. 

Con  {pro  and),  4. 

Concern  (the),  101.  [.58. 

Concession,  for  grant,  55, 
Conduct  affairs,  95. 
Confab,  Confabulation,27. 
Conferment,  25. 

Confess  (1),  54. 

Confliction,  25. 

Confucius,  Confutcee,  20. 
Congress,  78. 

Connect  together,  14. 
Connection  (in  this),  7. 


Conscience,  52,  59. 
Consciousness,  52. 
Consequence  (by),  (in), 
(of),  12. 

Consequentlj’,  12,  70. 
Conservative,  09. 
Consider,  for  deem,  52. 
Consolidated  annuities. 
Consols,  28.  | 28. 

Constitutes,  77. 
Constitution,  09. 
Constitutional,  09. 
Construct,  50. 

Construe,  50.  [81. 

Contemplate  a monarch. 
Continual,  Continuous, 
Contraband  (a),  28.  [50. 

I Contract  habits,  95.  [21. 
Contrary,  for  contrary, 
Contrary  (to  the), 48.  [95. 
Conveyed  to  (impression), 
Convict,  50. 

Convince,  50. 

Copperhead,  28. 

Corinth,  20. 

Corporal,  77. 

Corpse,  77. 

Corral,  21. 
Correspondents,  136. 
Counterfeit  present- 
ment, 79. 

Coup  d'(eil,  23. 

Coup  de  soleil,  8. 

Course  (in),  25. 

Crack,  7. 

Crag,  99. 

Crampt,  3. 

Crave  for.  Crave  after,  14. 
Croesus,  20. 

Cuckoo,  99.  [95. 

Cultivate  acquaintance. 
Curb  in,  14. 

Currency,  71. 

Currving  favor,  5. 

Cute;  27. 

Cutting  polysyllables  into 
one,  01. 

Cyprus,  20. 

Daii-ilt,  Daily,  15. 

Dance  attendance,  5,  17. 
Daniel,  88. 

Dare,  Dares,  13,  15. 
Deadly,  50. 

Deathly,  50. 

Debase,  54. 

Debnianfe,  23. 

Decided,  50,  55. 

Decisive,  51. 

Declinature,  25. 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES. 


299 


Dijconsu,  158. 

Deeiled,  24. 

Deem,  52. 

Deliiiitc,  51. 

Deliiiitive,  51. 

Delicacy,  Delicateness,15. 
Delicatcst,  15. 

Delicate  tran.saction,  83. 
Delicious  e.sculent,  123. 
Demanil,  Bemandcr,  57. 
Demean,  54. 

Demeanor,  54. 

Demean  herself,  58. 
/A'HifHcr,  54. 
Demi-monde,  23. 
Democratic,  (iSl. 

Dental,  77. 

Dental  organs,  123. 
Dependable,  10. 

Dipvt,  8. 

Depreciate,  8. 

Derailment,  8. 

Derived  from  sources,  95. 
Devouring  element,  79. 
Dian,  27. 

Difl'erentiate,  8. 
Different  to,  Different 
Difticulty,  15.  [than,  47. 
Diggings  (these),  8. 
Dilly-dally,  4. 
Ding-dong,  99. 

Dint  of  (by),  4. 

Diocese,  Dioccss,  17.  [31. 
Directly,  for  as  soon  as, 
Di.sannul,  13. 
Discomfortable,  21. 
Discover,  52. 

Discusses  the  repast,  79. 
Disembowel,  13. 
Disorderly  conduct,  83. 
Dispeace,  25. 

Disposable,  IG. 
Disremember,  7. 
Distantest,  15. 

Dist!nr/uv,  23. 

Docket  (on  the),  8. 

Dodge  (a  new),  G. 

Doff',  10. 

Dollar  of  our  fathers,  119. 
Don.  10. 

Donne  sur,  55. 

Don't  (he),  31. 

Dos-d-dos,  23. 

Doughface,  28. 

Downy  conch,  79. 

Draft,  12. 

Drank,  Drunk,  13. 
Drauglit,  1.3. 

Drawn  from  sources,  95. 
Drip  (the),  99. 


E.vcii,  with  them,  32. 
Each  for  themselves,  33. 
Each  fiercer  than  the 
others,  Gl. 

Each  knowing  more  than 
the  others,  G2. 

Each  were,  33. 

Eat,  Eaten,  13. 

Eat  words,  94. 

Edifying,  94. 
Educationalist,  24. 

E’en,  28 
E’er,  28. 

Egoism,  Egoist,  51. 
Egotism,  Egotist,  51. 
Either,  49. 

Either,  or,  13G. 

Elective,  7. 

Element  (devouring,  na- 
tive), 79. 

Eliminate,  5G. 
Eliminating,  57. 

Elsass,  2G. 

Embargo,  21. 
Embezzlement,  83. 
Embowel,  13. 

/Cmeule,  8. 

Employ  means,  95. 

End  and  aim,  114. 

Kn  ijrinule  toihdie,  23. 
Enormity,  51,  58. 
Enormousness,  51. 

Entail,  8,  53,  59. 

Entire  (the),  59. 

Entirely  engrossed,  Gl. 
Entirety,  79. 

Envoy,  21. 

Ere,  it). 

Errata  (an),  32. 

Er.st,  10. 

Esculent  succulent,  123. 
Espouse  a side,  95. 
Etiiiuette,  21. 

Even,  13G. 

Ever\-,  that  were,  33. 
Evidence,  G9. 

Evidently,  52. 

E.xam,  Examination,  27. 
Examine  into,  14. 
Exceptionable,  51,  58. 
E.xceiitional,  51. 

E.xcnsal,  25. 

Exhibit  (to),  22. 
Exhibition,  12,  22. 
Expected  to  have  found, 
38. 

Experience  (to),  24. 
Exposant.s,  22. 

Expose,  Exposer,  22. 
Exposition,  12,  22. 


Expositor,  22. 

E.xtra,  28. 

Extradited,  25. 
Extra-oliicial,  52. 

E.xtras,  28. 

Fair  Sex,  123.  [Gl. 

Fairest  of  her  daughters. 
Fall  (to),  54.  [GO. 

False  misrepresentations, 
Falseness,  51. 

Falsity,  51. 

Fmicy  (1).  G. 

Faux  pas,  23. 

Feather,  77. 

Fell  (to),  54. 

Festive  board,  79. 

Fetch  up,  7. 

Feux  d'artifice,  8. 

Fict  itious,  54. 

Fierce,  Fiercelv,  47. 

Fig,  28. 

Fill  up,  14. 

Finds  its  own  level,  94. 
Fire’s  devastation,  48. 
First  (the),  49. 

First  aggressor,  GO. 

First  Iv,  25. 

Flit,  Flitting,  7. 

Flowing,  94. 

Flowing  style,  158. 
Flimsv,  28. 

Fidks;  7. 

Follow  after,  14. 

Foot,  77,  88. 

For,  108. 

Forgot,  Forgotten,  13. 
Former  (the),  49,  72. 

For  my  sake,  48. 

Forward,  Forwards,  15. 
Fracas,  8. 

Freshen  up,  14. 

Fro  (to  and),  4. 

From  whence,  14,  115. 
Fun,  17,  28. 

Funeral  obsequies,  00. 

CiAI.X  CEI.EIiniTY,  95. 
(lamin.  8. 

’Gan,  28. 

Gaol,  IG. 

Gas,  Gaseous,  24. 
Gasometer,  24. 
Generousest,  15. 

Genteeler,  15. 

Gent,  Gentleman,  27. 
Gerrymander,  28. 

Get  down  to  bed-rock,  8. 
Gifted,  24. 

Gives  upon,  55,  59. 


300 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES. 


Glides  into,  79. 

Going  ill  town,  31. 

Gone  and  done  it,  31. 
Got,  Gotten,  13,  115. 
Grant  (a),  55.  [inents,  79. 
Grateful  acknowledg- 
Gray  liairs,  8S. 

Greater  part,  17.  [119. 

Greenback  (battle-born ), 
Green  (verdant),  GO. 
Guess  (I),  G. 

Gums,  7. 

[80. 

Haiuts  OI’  cle.vnliness, 
Hack,  28. 

Hackney  coach,  28. 

Had  better,  14. 

Hadn’t  ought,  31. 

Had  rather,  14. 

Hail  from,  7. 

Haint  (I),  31. 

Hampden,  88. 

Handsome,  04. 

Handy,  77. 

Haply,  51. 

Happen,  55. 

Happily,  51. 

Hard  pan,  8 
Hard-shell,  28. 
Harum-scarum,  4. 

Harsh  temper,  99. 

Hath,  10. 

Haul  ton,  23. 

He,  72,  89. 

Healthful,  51. 

Healthy,  51. 

Heavenlily,  15. 

He  don’t  like  it,  31. 
Heigh-ho,  99. 
Helter-skelter,  4. 

Hence,  14,  70,  108. 

Her  (it  is),  31. 

Hera,  27. 

Her  daughters.  Eve,  01. 
Herodotos,  Herodotus, 2C. 
Hid,  Hidden,  13. 
Hierarch}-,  8. 
Higgledy-piggledy,  4. 
llight,  10. 

Hire  by  lease,  53. 

Hiss,  llist,  99.  [47. 

Hitherto,  as  adjective, 
Hoax,  28. 

Hocus-pocii.s,  4. 
Hodge-podge,  4. 

Holily,  15. 

Homelil}',  15.  [15. 

Homeward,  Homewards, 
Honestest,  15. 

Honor,  Honour,  8. 


Honorable,  69. 

Horse  and  foot,  88. 
House’s  roof,  48. 

How,  31,  138. 

How  did  vou  sav  ? 31. 
Hubbub,  99. 

Hue  and  cry,  4. 

Hum,  for  humbug,  27. 
Human,  Humanly,  51,  58. 
Humane,  51. 

Humbug,  27,  28. 
Humming-bird,  99. 
Hunker,  28. 

Hurly-burly,  4. 
Hurricane,  21. 
Hurry-scurr}',  4. 

Hush,  99. 

Hyp,  Hypochondria,  27. 

r,  28. 

1,  we,  80. 

1 ain’t,  31. 

I’m  going  in  town,  31. 

I confess,  54. 

I don’t  remember  of,  31. 

I haint  got,  31. 

I have  got  a cold,  115. 

I have  went,  31. 
Identified  with,  79. 
Ignore,  17. 

Ilk,  7. 

HI,  Illy,  25. 

Immense,  04. 

Impassable,  55. 
Impracticable,  55-  58. 
Impre.ssion  conveyed 
to,  95. 

fmpression  made  on,  95. 
fnaugurated,  80. 

In  an3’wise,  14. 

In  likewise,  14. 

In  nowise,  14. 

In  such  wise,  14. 

In  that  wise,  14. 

In  this  wise,  14. 

In  medias  res,  23- 
In  my  absence,  48. 

In  our  midst,  48. 

In  the  like  sort,  21. 

In  the  way,  53. 

In  this  connection,  7. 

In  town  (going),  31. 
Incog,  Incognito,  27. 

In  course,  25. 

Indeed,  108. 
Independence  on,  47. 
India-rubbers,  7. 
Indispensable,  10. 
Indispensablest,  15. 
Individual,  113. 


Inevitable  by,  48. 
Inextricable,  16.  [101. 

-ing  (words  in),  16,  43, 
Informational,  25. 

In  his  defence,  48. 
Inspire  into,  14. 
Insurance,  12. 

Intents  and  purposes,!  14. 
Interpose  authority,  95. 
Interview  (to),  24.  [00. 

Invariable  (more  or  less). 
Invent,  52. 

Ire,  10. 

Irregularities,  83. 

Is  being,  10. 

Is  he  to  liome  ? 31. 

Isn't  so,  I don’t  think,  31. 
Isles,  10. 

Issuance,  25. 

It,  72,  73,  74,  137,  140. 

It  is  her,  31. 

It  is  me,  31. 

Its,  3. 

Jail,  10- 
Jockey,  22. 

Jollily,  15. 

Jolly,  04. 

Jug,  8. 

Jungle,  21. 

Juno,  27. 

Jupiter,  27. 

Juxtapose  (to),  25. 

Kastor,  25. 

Keep  off  of,  115. 

Kine,  10. 

Kith  and  Kin,  4.  [114. 

Knowledge  and  bfitief, 
Korkyra,  20. 

Laced.emon,  25. 

Laid,  55,  58. 

Lain,  55. 

Lakedaimon,  25. 

Lamp  of  day,  123. 

Last  (the),  49. 

Last  of  two,  49. 

Latter  (the),  49,  72. 
Laughable,  10. 

Launch,  94. 

Laundered,  24. 

Lay  (to),  54. 

Lays  to,  55. 

Lay  up  treasure,  95. 
Learn,  53,  00. 

Learned,  Learner,  5-3 
Learning,  53. 

Learn  up,  14. 

Lease  (to),  53,  59. 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  FIIRASES. 


301 


Let,  To  be  let,  14. 

Let  by  lease,  54. 

Levell’d  tube,  124. 

Levity  of  cliaiacter,  94. 
Levity  of  cork,  94. 

Lewis,  20. 

Liable,  51,  GO. 

Liberal,  09. 

Liberty,  09. 

Lie  (to).  54. 

Lief  (as),  4,  17. 

Lies  to,  55. 

Like  1 do,  41. 

Like,  Like  it,  24. 

Like  sort  (in  the),  21. 
Likely,  51. 

Likewise,  14. 

Line  (in  his),  8. 
Literature,  84. 

Litten,  21. 

Located,  09. 

Loco-foco,  28. 

London’s  life,  48.  [47. 

Looks  fierce,  fiercely  at. 
Looks  rough,  47. 

Looks  upon,  55. 

Loose  (to),  14. 

Lorraine,  20. 

Louis,  20. 

Love,  77. 

Lovely,  04. 

Lumber,  7. 

Luxuriant,  51. 

Luxurious,  51. 

Lvons,  20. 

[95. 

Made  on  (impression), 
Mmjnum  opus,  24. 
Mahomet,  Mahomet  an,  26. 
Makers,  for  poets,  17. 
Man  of  science,  10. 

Man  of  talent,  17. 
Managerial,  25. 

Manly,  Mannish,  52. 
Manual,  77. 

Man}'  a,  5. 

Many  was  34. 

Mtti'seille,  20. 

Die  (it  is),  31. 

Mean,  54. 

Dleans  (these),  17. 

Means  (lids),  17. 
Measure,  71).  [14. 

Jleet  together.  Meet  with. 
Metes  and  bounds,  114. 
Member  of  Congress,  78. 
Memoranda  (a),  32. 
Mentioned,  52. 

Mercury,  27. 

Afenaper,  Messenger,  17. 


Methodist,  28. 

Mickle,  17. 

’Mid,  28. 

Midst  (in  our),  48. 

Miglit  better,  13. 

Might  and  main,  4. 
Miitiades,  20. 

Minatory  expressions,  80. 
Dline  liost,  10. 

Dlinutia,  Minutiies,  32. 
Misappropriation,  84. 
.Mischievous,  21. 
.Misdemeanor,  54.  [00. 

Jlisreprescntations  (false) 
.Mix  up,  14. 

Mob,  17,  24. 

Mobbish,  Mob-law,  24. 
Modern,  77. 

Modish  machine,  122. 
Mohammed,  Mohammed- 
an, 20. 

Money,  71. 
Moohummudan,  20. 
Mouth,  77. 

More  or  less  invariable,GO. 
More  part  (the),  17. 

Jlore  preferable,  00. 

Jlore  standard,  00. 

More  superior,  00. 
Morning  meal,  123. 

Most,  for  almost, 47.f00. 
Mostconiplete,extrcuie, 
Most  hopeless,  00. 

Most  merciless,  00. 

Most  perfect,  00. 

Most  superior,  80. 

Most  unbounded,  00. 
Most  unparalleled,  00. 
Most  unprecedented,  00. 
Mote  it  be,  21. 

Motif,  8. 

Mount,  10. 

Move,  Dloving,  7. 
Dluchly,  21. 

Murmur,  99. 

Musician,  78. 

Mutton,  77. 

Mututil,  53,  50. 

JIutual to  us  both,  01. 
Mutually  reciprocal,  00. 
Mykene,  20. 

Nadoi!,  21. 
Namby-pamby,  4. 

Nasty,  04. 

Natheless,  28. 

Nation,  84. 

Native  element,  79. 
Nature,  00. 

Natural,  9. 


Naught,  Naughty,  T2. 

Naval,  77. 

Nave,  77. 

Nay,  10. 

Near,  for  nearly,  47. 
’Neath,  28. 

Neckerchief,  6. 
Neck-handkerchief,  0. 
Nee,  8. 

Need,  Needs,  13,  15. 
Ne’er,  28. 

Neglect,  51. 

Negligence,  51,  58. 
Neebor,  for  neighbor,  7. 
Neighbors  (we "our),  01. 
Neither,  17,  40,  40,  130. 
Neophyte,  8. 

Never,  140. 

Never  so  good,  5. 

News,  7,  ill. 

Nez  retrousse,  23. 

Nice,  04. 

Nigh,  10. 

Nizza,  for  Nice,  26. 

No,  no  more,  40. 

No  doubt  but  what,  31. 
No  great  shakes,  0. 

No  one,  40. 

Nooz,  for  news,  7. 

Nor,  130. 

Not  alone,  60,  59. 

Not  a whit,  4. 

Not  only,  130. 
Notwitlistandlng,  108. 
Nothing  less  than,  140. 
Nought,  12. 

Nouns  (collective),  35. 
Now,  108. 

Nowadays,  17. 

Nowise  (in),  14. 

Null  ami  void,  114. 

O’,  28. 

Objective,  0. 

Obleeged,  21. 

Obnoxious,  53. 
Obscurities  (throw  light 
on),  95. 

Obscurities  (unravel).  05. 
Obsequies  (funeral),  00. 
Observance,  51,  50. 
Observation,  51. 

Obtain  rewards,  95. 
Obvious,  53,  59. 

O’er,  28. 

Of  all  others,  01. 

Of  (much),  65. 

Of  (remember),  31. 

Off  of,  115. 

Official,  Officious,  52. 


302 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES. 


Oft,  2S. 

Old,  77. 

Omelette,  22. 

On  (independence),  47. 
On  our  account,  48. 

On  tick,  6. 

On  the  docket,  8. 

On  the  one  hand,  108, 1-30. 
On  the  other  hand,  108, 
130. 

On  (don’t  tell),  8. 
t)n  yesterday,  2,').  [33. 

One"  after  another  have. 
Only,  56;  Only  not,  136. 
On  to  the  train,  31. 

Open  to  criticism,  53. 
Open  up,  14. 

Opens  upon,  55. 

Optional.  7. 

Or,  17,  40,  136. 

Oral,  54,  77. 

Original  aggressor,  GO. 
Orthography  (bad),  4. 
Otherwhere,  21. 
Otherwise,  47. 

Ought,  12,  69. 

Ought  (hadn’t),  31. 
Ovation,  79. 

Overlay,  55. 

Over-,shoes,  7. 

P,VGOD.\,  21. 

Panacea  (universal),  60. 
Panic,  21. 

Pan  out  (to),  8. 
Pantaloons,  Pants,  27. 
Part,  for  region,  7. 

Part  (the  more),  17. 

Part  and  parcel,  114.  [79. 
Partake  of.  Participate  in, 
Party,  for  person,  21. 

Pass  over  in  silence,  95. 
Passager,  Passenger,  17. 
Passing  away,  83. 

Pastor,  Pastoral,  77. 
Pedal,  77. 

Pell-mell,  4,  17. 

Penult,  Penultimate,  28. 
Peradventure,  10. 

Perfect  (most),  60. 
Perplexities  (unravel), 95. 
Phenomena  (a),  32. 

Phiz,  Physiognomy,  27. 
Photo,  Photograph,  28. 
Photographer,  Photogra- 
phist, 16. 

Phylactery,  8. 

Pick  of  them  (the),  80. 
Piousest,  15. 

I’itchcr,  8. 


Plea,  Pleadings,  53.  [27. 
Plenipo,  Plenipotoiitiary, 
Plume,  77. 

Poets,  called  makers,  17. 
Politics,  78. 

Pomona  (bureau  of),  79. 
Pooh,  99. 

Popular  people,  GO.  [60. 
Popular  with  the  people. 
Population,  69. 

Positive,  27. 

Postal,  Post-card,  28. 

Poz,  for  positive,  27. 
Practicable,  73. 

Predict,  56. 

Predicate  (to),  56. 
Preferable  (more),  60. 
Premature,  53.  [79. 

Presentment  (counterfeit). 
Priceless  (very ),  60. 
Probably,  135. 

Pro  and  core,  4. 

Proceeds  to,  79. 

Process  of  erection,  79. 
Proctor,  28. 

Procurator,  Procuracy, 28. 
Profess  principles,  95. 
Progress  (to),  24.  [115. 

Prominent  and  leading. 
Prononce,  Pronounced, 
55. 

Proposal,  52. 

Propose,  52. 

Proposition,  52. 

Proved,  Proven,  7. 
Provoking,  56. 

Proxy,  28. 

Pulpit  (the),  88. 

Punch,  17. 

Pundit,  21. 

Purpose,  Purpose  (to),  52. 
Pursue  a course,  95. 
Pyrrhos,  26. 

Qualify,  6. 

(Juick  mind,  09. 

Quoth,  10. 

Quire,  12. 

Quite,  Quite  a,  57,  60. 
(juite  a good  deal,  58. 
Quite  so,  58. 

Radical,  28,  69. 

Raises,  55. 

Rampire,  10. 

Ranch,  21. 

Rathe,  4. 

Rather,  3. 

Rather  (had),  14. 

Rather  (would),  13. 


Rattle,  99. 

Ravel,  13. 

Reality,  54. 

Reason,  9. 

Recipient  of,  79. 
Reciprocal  (mutually ),00. 
Recitable,  16. 

Reckon  (I),  6. 
Reconnoitre,  17. 

Red  tape,  88. 

Refereed,  24. 

Referred  to,  52. 

Reflect,  94. 

Reflect  upon,  52. 

Regular  ablution,  80. 
Rejoiced  at  the  glad,  115. 
Relation,  13. 

Relative,  13. 

Reliable,  16. 

Religion,  78. 
Relyuponable,  16. 
Remember  of,  31. 
Remove,  Removing,  7. 
Renaissance,  Renas- 
cence, 30. 

Rep,  for  reputation,  27. 
Repairs  to,  79.  _ [95. 

Repeated  from  sources, 
Reportorial,  25. 
Republican,  69. 
Reputation,  27. 
Residence,  79. 
Responsible,  56. 

Rest  of  mankind,  61. 
Resume,  for  sum  up,  55. 
Retiracy,  24. 

Retires  to,  79. 

Ridee,  23. 

Ridiculous,  53. 

Right  awav, 

Right  hard,  7. 

Right  here,  7. 

Right  off,  7. 

Rights  (to),  7. 

Rime,  for  rhj  me,  17. 

Rip  (to),  13. 

Rises,  55. 

Risible,  53. 

Road  agents,  83. 

Roar,  99. 

Rough  (looks),  47. 
Roughly  (treat),  47. 
Round  (come),  25.  [115. 

Rules  and  regulations. 

Safe  and  sound,  114. 
Said,  8. 

Sail,  88. 

Sail  (to),  24. 

Sample,  86. 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  I’lIRASES. 


303 


Samplp-rofirn,  83. 

Sail;;,  13. 

Saiii'iiiiie,  77. 

Sanatory,  57. 

.Sanitary,  57. 

Sat,  .Sate,  12. 

Saturnalia  was,  were,  32. 
Save.  Iti. 

Sdniir  fdire,  23. 
Scarceness,  Scarcity,  15. 
Science,  78. 

Science  (man  of).  Scien- 
tist, IG. 

Scrape  acquaintance,  5. 
Sea  of  faces,  79. 

Sensible  of,  52. 

Sensitive  to,  52. 

Sensuous,  9. 

Seraphim,  32. 

Serve  for  a warning,  95. 
Set  (to).  Setting,  55. 
Sewage,  52. 

Sewerage,  52. 

Shade  (umbrageous),  60. 
Shakes  (no  great),  6. 
Shakv,  6. 

Shall;  39. 

Sharp  tongue,  99. 

Shawl,  21. 

Site,  72,  89. 

Sheep,  Shepherd,  77. 
Shew,  for  sliowed,  7. 
Shilly-shally,  4. 

Ship,  77. 

Shoon,  for  shoes,  10. 
Should.  39. 

Showed,  7. 

Shrank,  Shrunk,  1-3. 
Shreds  and  patches,  158. 
Shunt,  28. 
hierra,  21. 

Since  born,  Gl. 

Sit,  Sitting,  55. 

Sitten,  17. 

Skatorial,  24. 

Slang,  28. 

Slice,  for  lire-shovel,  7. 
Slur  over,  14. 

Smart  boy,  7. 

Smart  chance,  7. 

Smart  .sprinkle,  7. 

Snew,  for  snowed,  21. 
Snob.  28. 

So,  IIG. 

So  complete,  114. 

So  immovable,  114. 

So  insejiarable,  60. 

Soap  and  water.  80. 

Soft  (sounds),  47. 

Soften  off,  14. 


Soft  manners,  99. 
Soft-shell,  28. 

Softly  (speaks),  47. 

Some,  for  somewhat, 47. 
Soinefew,G0.  [other,l  1,5. 
Somehow, Some  way,  or 
Soniewhat  unanimous,  GO. 
Soothly,  21. 

Sort  ( in  the  like),  21. 
Sounds  soft,  47. 

Sources  (based  on),  95. 
Sources  (drawn  from),  95. 
Sources  of  in(brmation,95. 
Spake,  10. 

Speaks  softly,  47. 

Spec,  Specuration,  27.  [94. 
Speculation  in  those  eyes, 
Speculatist,  24. 
Speculative  opinions,  94. 
Spick  and  span,  4. 
Spiritual  ardor,  94. 

Splash,  99. 

Splendid,  G4. 

Spoke,  S[)okcn,  1.3. 
Sprang,  Sprung,  13. 
Squaw',  21. 

Stamina  (a).  32. 
Stampede,  21. 

Standard  (more),  GO. 
Standard  pattern,  GO. 
State,  69. 

States  (the),  7. 

Steal  (a),  24. 

Steam  (to),  24. 

Still  more,  109. 

Stock  (to  take)  in,  8. 

Stop  (to)  for  to  stay,  7. 
Store  ( to),  94, 

Stormy  passions,  99. 
Strata  (a),  32. 

Strike  a bonanza,  8. 
Strike  oil,  8. 

Striking,  55. 

Stunning,  G4. 

Subjective,  9. 
Subject-matter,  17. 

Such  w'ise  (in),  14. 
Sneing,  for  sewing,  7. 
Suicided,  24,  25. 

Sum  and  substance,  114. 
Sung,  13. 

Superior  (more),  GO. 
Superior  (inost),  80. 
Supernatural,  9. 
Supplement  (to),  24. 
Supreme,  55,  58. 
Supremus,  55.  [Gl. 

•Survivor  of  (iredeeessors, 
Sweet  (sleeps),  47. 

Sweet  disposition,  99. 


Sweetly  (sings),  47. 

Sweet  refection,  123. 
Swingeing,  G. 

Sword  (tile),  88, 
Sycophant,  21, 

Sylvan  forest,  GO, 

Taboo,  21. 

Tableaux  was,  .32. 

Take  degrees,  95.  [52. 

Take  into  consideration, 
Take  steps,  95. 

Take  stock  in,  8. 

Talent  (man  of),  17. 
Talented,  24. 

Talk  that  (to),  31. 

Tapis,  8. 

Tariff,  21. 

Tasty,  25. 

Teach,  53. 

Teacher,  Teaching,  53. 
Team,  53,  58. 
Tediousness,  109. 
Telegram,  17. 

Tell  on  me,  31. 
Temperance,  G9. 

Termini  (a),  32. 

Terse,  54. 

Than,  45. 

Than  (different),  47. 

Than  whom,  4G. 

That,  105,  108,  138,  139. 
'fliat  wise  (in),  14. 

The,  in  French  idiom,  55. 
file  and  a,  104. 

The  entire,  59. 

The  former,  72. 

The  latter,  72. 

The  pick  of  them,  80. 

The  rest  of  mankind,  61. 
The  rest  of  our  neighbors, 
61. 

The  revolution,  55. 

The  whole,  for  all,  54. 
Thebes,  2G. 

Their,  73. 

Then,  70. 

Thence,  14. 

Theory,  71. 

There  can  be  no  doubt 
but  that,  115.  [115. 

There  is  nothing  which, 
Tliere’s  the  boys,  31. 
Therefore,  70,  108. 

These,  108. 

They,  72,  73. 

This,  for  this  place,  7. 
This,  for  these,  means,  17. 
This  wise  (in),  14. 

Tho',  28. 


OF  WORDS  AND  rilRASES. 


304  INDEX 


Those,  108. 

Those  kind,  .31. 

Thonc;h,  108. 

Thro’",  23. 

Tlirow  liglit  on,  05. 
Thneydiiles,  20,  27. 

Tliiid,  90. 

Tick  (on),  G. 

Tidings  of  news,  61. 
Timber,  7. 

Timelily,  15. 

’Tis,  10. 

To  and  fro,  4. 

Together  with,  115. 

To  home  (is  he)  V .31. 

To  let.  To  be  let,  14. 

To  the  contrary-,  48. 

To  their  credit,  48. 

To  rights,  7. 

Tomahawk,  21. 

Tonsorial  artist,  79. 

Too,  IIG. 

Too  universal,  60. 

Tooth,  77. 

Tory,  28. 

Tow'ard,  Tow’ards,  15. 
Trace  out,  14. 

Tramp  (a),  28. 

Tramway,  8. 

Transaction,  57. 
Transaction  (delicate),  83. 
Transcendental,  9. 
Transpire,  55. 

Transpired,  56,  59. 

'i’reat  roiiglily,  47. 

Treat  upon,  14. 

Ti'ottoir,  8. 

Trousers,  27. 

Trunks,  8. 

Trustworthy,  16. 

Try  and  think,  31. 

Turn  to  account,  95. 
Twifold,  21. 

’Twixt,  28. 

Umbrageous  shade,  60. 
Unavoidable  to,  48.  [60. 
Unanimous  (somewhat), 
Un  bun  parti,  23. 
Unbounded  (most),  60. 
Unconscious,  59. 
Underlie,  55. 
Understanding,  9.  [115. 

Uniform  and  invariable, 
Universal  love  of  all,  61. 
Universal  (too),  panacea. 
Univocal,  12.  [60. 

Unloose,  13.  [60. 

Unprecedented  (most). 


Unquestionablest,  15. 
Unravel,  13. 

Unravel  obscurities,  95. 
Unrip,  13. 

Up  (redundant),  14. 

Upon  (gives),  55,  69. 

U pon  (looks),  (opens),  55. 
Up  Salt  River,  28. 

Use  means.  Use  steps,  95. 
Usual  and  ordinary,  115. 

Vale,  10. 

Van,  28. 

Venice,  26. 

Venus,  27. 

Veracity,  54. 

Verbal,  54,  77. 

Verdant  green,  60. 
Vertebrre  w'as  (the),  32. 
Very,  116. 

Very  incessant,  60. 

Very  pleased,  31. 

Very  priceless,  60. 

Vest,  7. 

Viewless  obstruction,  123. 
Vim  (with),  6.  , [15. 

Vindicative,  Vindictive, 
Virtuous,  69. 

Virtuousest,  15. 

Vis-a-vis,  23. 

Visitant,  52,  60. 

Visitor,  52. 

Vocation,  52. 

Volcano,  21. 

Wage,  Wage-fund,  8. 
Wair,  for  were,  7. 
Waistcoat,  7. 

Walkist,  24. 

Wander  (a),  24. 

WUs  J'ilr  ein,  55. 

Was  (you),  31. 

Waur,  for  were,  7. 

Ways  and  means,  114. 
We;  73. 

We,  I,  80. 

Went  (I  have),  31. 

Were,  7. 

Wharves,  AVharfs,  8. 
What  for  a,  55. 

What  kind  of  a,  55. 
Whatever  did  you  say? 
31. 

Whence,  14,  137. 

Whence  (from),  14,  115. 
Whereabouts,  5. 

Whether  or  no,  5. 

Whew,  99. 

Which,  44,  73,  105,  137. 


Which  (and),  4,'. 

Which  (of),  44. 

Whig,  28. 

While,  108. 

Whiles,  21. 

Whilom,  10. 

Whilst,  10. 
Whip-poor-will,  99. 
Whiskered  vermin,  122. 
Whit  (not  a),  4. 

Whiz,  99. 

Who,  4-3,  44,  105. 

Who  (and),  45. 

Who  did  you  see  ? 31. 
Who  done  it  ? 31.  [33. 

Who  of  these  two  have  i 
Whole  (the),  for  jvll,  54. 
AVbolesome,  51. 

Whom,  43. 

Whose,  43,  44,  73. 
Wigwam,  21. 

Wilfully  a mistake,  61. 
Will  (1),  39. 

Willy-nilly,  4. 

AVin  prizes,  95. 

AVinged  hound,  120. 
AVire  (to),  6. 

AA'ise  (in  such),  14. 

AVise  (in  that),  14. 

AVise  (in  this),  14. 
AVithal,  10. 

AVith  vim,  6. 

AVithouten,  21. 
AVomanish,  52. 
AVomanlv,  52. 

AVord,  77. 

AVords  (to  eat),  94. 
AVould,  39. 

AV^ould  God,  5. 

AA''onld  rather,  13. 

AVraps,  AVrappings,  28. 
AVritten,  13. 

AA''rong,  69. 

AVrote,  13. 

AV rote  you  a letter,  116 

Xer.xes,  26. 

A’'AcriT,  21. 

Yclept,  10. 

Yea,  10. 

A'ear’s  work,  48. 
A'esterday  (on),  25. 

A'et,  108. 

A'ore,  10. 

Zerdusiit,  26. 

Zeus,  27. 

Zoroaster,  26. 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS, 


ABiNGER,Lord,  203, 229, 
233,  2&5,  213,  241. 

Adams,  J.  Q.,  125,  163, 
226  229. 

Addison,  j. , 32,  47,  114, 
122,  1.56,  205,  21S. 

2Kschincs,  226,  231. 

.^scliyliis,  120. 

Alford,  Dean,  23,  31,  40, 
45. 

Alison,  Sir  A.,  34,  74. 

Anacreon,  177. 

Anonymous,  48. 

Argyll,  Duke  of,  40, 
58. 

Aristotle,  8.5,  193,  197, 
209,  310,  243. 

Arnold,  M.,  10, 31, 26, 27, 
30,  35,  131,  137,  151, 
179,  216. 

Austen,  J.,  33,  34. 

Bacon,  Lord,  13,  171, 
218 

Bain,  Prof.  A.,  73, 85, 95. 

Bartlett,  J.  R.,  25. 

Bentliam,  J.,  15, 109,147, 
148,  151. 

Bible,  The,  112, 187,  378. 
See  St.  Luke,  St.  Mat- 
thew. 

Blackmore,  R.  D.,  63. 

Blair,  Dr.  11.,  39,  116, 
117,  140, 141  147, 159. 

Bolingbrokc,  Lord,  61, 
193. 

Boswell,  J.,  133. 

Breen,  II.  II.,  33. 

Bright,  J.,  38,  60. 

Bronte,  C.,  105. 

Brougham,  Lord,  44,  87, 
106,  243. 

Browning,  E.  B.,  94, 
103. 

Browning,  R.,  4,  43,  58, 
89,  145,  149,  174. 

Bruce,  M.,  12i3. 

Bryant,  W.  C.,  27,  175, 
177. 


Bulwer  Lvtton,  Sir  E., 
45,  49,  60,  90,  106. 

Bunyan,  J.,  76. 

Burke,  £.,4^6,  76,  87, 
92c-ip8,<llDH3,  127, 

CSBOf^dl,  Jp,  157,  158, 
180,  193,  331,  249. 

Burney,  F.,  47,  61. 

Burns,  R,,  45,  89,  90, 
127. 

Butler,  Bishop,  218. 

Byron,  Lord,  10,  45,  89, 
99,  137,  145. 

Campbell,  Dr.  G.,  4,  9, 
13,  13,  14,  15,  17,  26, 
33,  36,  81,  85,  86,  115, 
120,  145. 

Campbell,  T.,  150. 

Carlyle,  T.,  15,  54,  94, 
137, 145,  146,  173,  287. 

Chambers’  Journal,  57. 

Chateaubriand,  F.  A., 
179. 

Chatham,  Lord,  64. 

Chaucer,  G.,  66. 

Choate,  R.,  133. 

Cicero,  29,  133,  133,  134, 
213,  244,  24,5. 

Clarke,  Dr.  S.,  120. 

Cockburn,  Chief- Jus- 

Coleridge,'  S.  T.,  9,  17, 
37,  46,  71,  77,  89,  91, 
108,  133, 150,  154,  155, 
158,  171,  183. 

Collegians,  2.5. 

Collins,  W.,  140. 

Common  Prayer,  Book 
of,  53. 

Conington,  Prof.,  46, 
137. 

Constitution  of  the  U. 
S.,  37. 

Coojjer,  J.  F.,  36. 

Coplcston,  Bishop,  216. 

Cornwall,  B.,  103. 

Cowley,  A.,  ^5. 

Cowper,  W.,  96,  123. 


Cumberland,  R.,  210. 

Dallino,  Lord,  37,  59, 
136. 

Dante,  164,  175,  176. 

Dav,  H.  N.,  231. 

Defoe,  D.,  133. 

De  Morgan,  A.,  184. 

Demosthenes,  98,  326, 
234. 

Do  Qiiincev,  T.,  3,  34, 
97,  101,  110,  113,  113, 
114,  136,  154,  155,  158, 
159. 

Descartes,  51. 

Dickens,  C.,  43,  43,  4-1, 
53,  59,  74,  80,  96,  101, 
114,  115,  125, 133,  173. 

Disraeli,  B.,  38,  43,  44, 
45,  46,  60,  77,  97,  106, 
136,  138,  160. 

Disraeli,  I.,  33. 

Doudan,  X.,  19. 

Dryden,  J.,  SO,  97,  99, 
133,  130,  132. 


Earl,  J.,  27. 

Eastlake,  Sir  C.  L.,  27. 
Edinburgh  Review,  58, 


Eliot,  George,  8,  13,  16, 
33,  35,  40,  51,  53,  80, 
89,  91,  92,  94, 113,  135, 
173,  174,  284. 

Ellenborough,  Lord, 
233. 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  10,  67, 
83,  98,  101,  113,  136, 
136,  165,  383. 

Erskine,  Lord,  220,  243. 


Ferguson,  A.,  35. 
Fontenelle,  B.  le  B.,  160. 
Forbes,  J.  D.,  47. 
Forster,  J.,  17,  59. 

Fox,  C.  J.,  243. 
Franklin,  B.,  131,  233, 
239. 

Freeholder,  The,  37. 


306 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS. 


Freeman,  E.  A.,  17,  21, 
26,  72. 

Froude,  J.  A.,  136. 
Fuller,  T.,  52. 

Gibbon,  E.,  131, 1.56. 
Gladstone,  W.  E.,  16, 36, 
96,  192,  205,  20S. 
Goldsmith,  O.,  127, 130, 

156,  283. 

Gordon,  T.,  147. 
Grainger,  Dr.  J.,  122. 
Gray,  T.,  15,  53,  89,  90. 
Greg,  W.  K.,  47. 

Grote,  G.,  27. 

Gudrin,  M.  de,  179. 

Hale,  E.  E.,  75. 

Hall,  F.,  16,  21. 

Hal  lam,  H.,  13,  35,  97, 
98. 

Harris,  J.,  179. 
Hawthorne,  N.,  48,  61, 
96,  146,  288. 

Hawtrej’,  Dr.  E.  C.,  25. 
Head,  Sir  E.  W.,  40. 
Helps,  Sir  A.,  21,  33,  34, 
43,  60,  138,  139,  247. 
Henry,  P.,  209,  210. 
Herbert,  G.,  13. 
Herodotus,  204. 

Homer,  118,  122,  175, 
176,  205. 

Hume,  D.,  33,  35,  104, 
105,  193. 

Hutton,  R.  H.,  34. 
Huxley,  T.  H.,  189,  209. 

Iren.$:us,  218. 

Irving,  W.,  4,  76,  116, 
138,  156,  283. 

Jevons,  W.  S.,  25,  33, 
34. 

Jolinson,  S.,  9,  17,  44, 
61,  73,  109,  113,  114, 
131,  1.32,  142,  147,  156, 

157,  158,  2.35,  249. 
Jones,  Sir  W.,  77. 
Jonson,  B.,  29. 

Junius,  131,  198. 
Juvenal,  204. 

Kames,  Lord,  129. 
Keats,  J.,  91,  93,  99, 145, 
147,  148,  179. 

Landoh,  W.  S,,  3,  4, 17, 
26,  36,  46,  78,  117,  122, 
128. 


Latham,  Dr.  R.  G.,  31. 

Law  Reports  ( Mass. ), 

Leelvv,  W.  E.  H.,  47, 
64. 

Leeds  Mercury,  Tlie,  23. 

Lessing,  G.  E.,  169. 

Lewis,  Sir  G.  C.,  34, 
35,  69,  200,  202,  207, 
212. 

Lincoln,  A.,  17. 

Lingard,  J.,  47. 

Loeke,  J.,  48,  163. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  178. 

Lowe,  R.,  139. 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  123,  164, 
176. 

Lowth,  Bishop,  13,  17. 

Lush,  Justice,  60. 

Macaulay,  T.  B.,  12,16, 
26,  29,  34,  37,  51,  52, 
66,  72,  79,  96, 106, 109, 
113,  118, 131,  1:34,  147, 
1.51,  192,  198,  216,  218, 
249,  259,  278,  286. 

Macmillan’s  Magazine, 
80,  123. 

Marsh,  G.  P.,  2,  9,  48, 
49,  64,  76,  77, 135, 147, 
156. 

Martineau,  J.,  139. 

Maurice,  F.  D.,  73. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  34,  35,  36,  38, 
42, 49,  55,  57, 67,  69,  72, 
89,  97,  106,  135,  136, 
148,  156,  190,  191,  213, 
214,  215,  217,  218,  222, 
228,  237,  286. 

Milman,  Dean,  140. 

Milton,  J.,  9,  17,  46,  .51, 
53,61,63,76,82, 84,89, 
99,  112,  117,  122,  144, 
145,  149,  170. 

Min  to,  W.,  132. 

Montreal  Gazette,  58. 

Morlev,  H.,  16. 

Morley,  J.,  66. 

Morris,  W.,  21. 

Newman,  Cardinal,  15, 
34,  70,  165,  186,  240. 

Newman,  F.  W.,  21. 

Newspapers,  English 
and  American,  14,  24, 
25,  36,  48,  59,  73,  98, 
107, 1.54. 

Novelists,  English  and 
American,  40,  47,  58, 
59. 


Oliphant,  T.  L.  K.  ,3,24. 
Origen,  218. 

Ossian,  127,  150. 

Pall  Mall  Gazette, 

32,  141. 

Pater,  W.  IL,  139. 
Payne,  E.  J.,  127. 
Perceval,  S.,  233. 
Plunket,  Lord,  243. 
Political  Speeches,  32, 
59,  119. 

Ponsonby,  W.  H.,  36. 
Pope,  A.,  29,  58,  130, 
132,  145. 

Preachers,  English  and 
American,  54,  80,  100, 
123. 

Prescott,  W.  H.,  37,  98. 
Prior,  M.,  109,  114. 

Quakteklt  Review,60. 
Quintilian,  29,  65,  104, 
119,  125,  128,  132, 166, 
229,  236,  243. 

Reade,C.,13,  32,  36, 44. 
Richter,  J.  P.  F.,  127. 
Rivarol,  A.,  164. 
Robertson,  W.,  .58. 
Ruskin,  J.,  1.5,  39,  140, 
166,  218. 

Saturday  Review,  16. 
Savage,  R.,  123. 
Scarlett,  see  Ahinger. 
Schiller,  J.  C.  F.  von,  177. 
Scott,  Sir  W.,  7,  12,  15, 

33,  34,  38,  39,  44,  4.5, 
46,  47,  59,  73,  76,  93, 
102,  112,  113,  136, 137, 
138, 149,  178,  243. 

Senancour,  E.  P.  de,179. 
Shaftesbury,  Lord,  141. 
Shakspere,  W.,  2,  9,  13, 

32,  39,53,63,82,  83,84, 
89, 90,  93, 144, 158, 166, 
168, 169,  179,  182,  241. 

Shelley,  P.  B.,  47,  148. 
Smith,  Adam,  38. 
Smitli,  Alex.,  149. 
Smith,  S.,  58. 

Southe3%  R.,  58,  218. 
Spectator,The(XVIIIth 
Century),  10,  32,  47, 
58,  01,  114,  205. 
Spectator,  The  (XIXth 
Century),  16,  24,  25, 

33,  35,  36,  46,  59,  100. 
Spencer,  Earl,  39. 


INDEX  OF  AUTIIOKS. 


307 


Spencer,  IT.,  28,  43,  59, 
75, 91,  92, 133, 142, 148, 
149,  150,  151,  152,  1G3, 
105,  100. 

Spenser,  E.,  53. 

St.  Luke,  80. 

St.  Matthew,  120. 

Stanley,  Dean,  273. 

Steele,  Sir  R.,  30,  73,  89. 

Stephen,  J.  F.,  48,  09, 
140,  196,  201,  203,  207, 
219,  220,  22) , 224,  238. 

Stephen,  L.,  45. 

Sterne,  L.,  249. 

Sumner,  0.,  17, 18. 

Swift,  J.,  16,  20,  35,  37, 
39,  46,  01,  99,  122,  137, 
163,  193,  204. 

Swinburne,  A.  C.,  21,41. 

T.\oitus,  147. 

'J'aine,  11.,  212. 

14 


Tatlcr,  The,  27. 

Taylor,  J.,  13. 

Taylor,  Z.,  01. 

Temple,  Sir  AVra.,  160, 
218. 

Tennyson,  A.,  10, 13,  56, 
83,  90,  112,  145. 
Tliaelieray,\V.M.,10,15, 
33,  47,  48,  (H),  172, 174. 
Thoreati,  II.  U.,  138,140. 
Thucydides,  204. 
Ticknor,  G.,  40. 

Times,  Tlie,  17. 

Tookc,  Horne,  78. 
Treneli,  Archbishop,  21, 
37,  59,  100. 

Trevelyan,  G.  O.,  37,07. 
Trollope,  A.,  31,  46,  47, 
125,  138. 

Tyndall,  J.,  73. 

Van  IIei.mont,  J.  P.,  3. 


Virgil,  46,  169. 

Webstee.  D.,35,  75,  99, 
122,  149;  183,  195,  244, 
215,  346,  285. 

AVebstcr,  N.,  13. 

Whatelj',  Arclibishop, 
09,  79,  81.  85,  91,  93. 
110,  11.5,  116,  119,  126, 
131,  153,  193,  304,  20;5, 
211,  213,  210,  230,  224, 
225  241. 

Wliewell,  Dr.  W.,  16, 
189. 

Whitefield,  Geo.,  239. 

AVilliams,  R.,  312. 

Wilson,  J.,  203,  288. 

Wordswortli,  W.,  76, 80, 
114,  123,  179. 

Wright,  C.,  237. 

Youno,  Dr.  E.,  13. 


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